


Treason

by carmenta



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Rice
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2000-04-01
Updated: 2000-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:38:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 72,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmenta/pseuds/carmenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Coven of the Articulate faces a new threat, this time from within their own rows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treason

**Author's Note:**

> THIS STORY IS UNFINISHED!
> 
> I would like to thank all my readers for their interest and their support while I was writing this stoy. Your comments have been invaluable, and I would not have gotten past the first few chapters without your encouragement, your questions and your feedback. This story means a lot to me, but it also marks the end of my days in the Vampire Chronicles fandom. The Chronicles have taken turns I no longer wish to follow, and which also make this story impossible to continue without diverging from canon. I cannot simply ignore the facts, and therefore Treason will remain unfinished. I am sorry.
> 
> Thank you all that you have accompanied me on the ride.

Treason: Prologue

Is this the real life?  
Is this just fantasy?

\- Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody  
***

Black. Everything was black. The air was dry, it smelled familiar. Earth, and dampness, and little many-legged creatures. The word underground came to mind, but what meant it? Memory only returned slowly, in fragments that did not make sense. There had been many nights, and long time spans of loneliness. Impossible to say how long. So strange, the memories slipped at the attempt to explore them, to find out more about the clouded images. Words echoing, the sound of many voices talking, screaming with terror, crying out in pain. What did it mean? Did it mean anything at all?

Dream. That had been the word to describe such feelings. Pictures seen through a hazy fog, utter helplessness. Impossible to influence what happened. Dreams. Bad dreams. Dark dreams. Nightmare, the memory came. A thing from which one woke screaming in the dark. Unpleasant, like so many other things that had happened. They were not remembered yet. Time would bring them back. Everything returned in time. Was that good or bad?

The body was sitting, did the mind belong to the body? At a thought, a hand was lifted. Yes. Mind and body were joined still. Had it ever been different? Another gap in recollection. The body felt wrong. Something was missing. Impossible to tell what it was. Had it been important? Maybe yes, maybe no. Time would tell.

A hand moved again, rose until it touched something soft. Hair, the mind realized. Fingers brushed over the material, twirled strands. A tentative tug. It hurt, the body hurt. The mind was aware of it, made the hand stop. Something else moved, in what was called face. Rapid movement. Blinking, recollection said. Eyes were kept open, saw only darkness, not the other thing. Light.

Again the hand moved, this time faster. There was nothing it could have touched. Rise, the mind commanded, and the body obeyed. Move forward. The outstretched fingertips felt something. Hard, rough, but with an artificial feeling. Wall.

Some other memories returned, a lot more than before. Many images of plants, and of mountains, and of the moon. Strange animals moving through the woods. The ground radiated heat. It was dark, but it was a different darkness. Seeing was still possible. There were traces of light from above, from the stars. They made recognizing things possible.

The other hand touched the wall. And she remembered.  
***

Treason: Chapter 1 - Home Sweet Home

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together  
\- William Shakespeare, All's Well that Ends Well  
***

The air in the house was still warm from the day, not even the closed shutters had been able to keep the heat outside. A smell of dust and old leather was lingering in the hallways, adding to the general atmosphere of the building. Everything seemed old in here, but in a remarkably good condition. Vases, statues, canvases... historians would have happily killed for just one tenth of the items collected in here.

The inhabitants did not care about them at all, and did not even look at them consciously. There was no need for them to do so, they knew exactly what the things looked like, how they felt. They had watched the crafting of a few of them.

Jesse was in the library sorting the new books she had purchased during her latest journey to Calcutta. She enjoyed living in India, to see the places again where she had already been once with the Talamasca, while researching cases of reincarnation. Knowing a country made returning to it a lot easier, and there was a lot here that connected her to her mortal life. She knew that Maharet disapproved if she went off to see old friends, she wanted Jesse to cut all her bonds with the mortal world as soon as possible. But Jesse wanted to spend time with her acquaintances and friends as long as she was able to. Soon the danger that they would notice her stagnating age would be too great, and she would have to leave them behind. The few years she had left she wanted to enjoy.

Life here was peaceful, and she loved to sit in Maharet's study and help her creator and many times removed mother to update the records of the Great Family. It amazed her that Maharet had been able to keep track of nearly every branch of the family, hardly anybody ever got out of sight. Jesse had been typing a lot of Maharet's old writings into the computer and had created a database with the names. Currently she was working on cross-referencing the entries.

She could tell that Mael and Eric were not exactly interested in the work she and Maharet were doing, but that did not matter. The two male vampires would entertain themselves elsewhere, and they had not complained yet. Sometimes Jesse wondered who of the two was Maharet's lover; she knew that it had to be one of them, but she had seen both Eric and Mael leave Maharet's bedroom from time to time. It was not that she cared; after a brief affair with Mael she had no longer been interested in him, and Eric was absolutely out of the question. He could be an amicable companion for one evening, but after some time he inevitably became bored by whatever she was doing, and would mock her mercilessly for it.

It bothered her that she could not read his thoughts; during her mortal life she had become a little too dependent on her telepathic abilities for her own good. Judging the emotions of a person just by means of their voice and body language was not always an easy task. But Jesse and Eric were too close to the primal fount to be able to hear each other. The connection was too close, and it was the same with Khayman.

The ancient Egyptian had visited them only a few times, and Jesse suspected that Mael and Eric were relieved every time he left. She was not sure if they saw a concurrent or a danger in him, but she did not care about it a lot. To her Khayman was a charming being, and she enjoyed being in his company. She loved him, but it was a daughter's love, not a lover's.

Balancing a stack of books in her arms, Jesse carefully took to the air to put them into one of the top shelves. Had she still been mortal, she would have had to get a ladder to accomplish this. Immortal powers had advantages in everyday situations.

"Jesse!" Eric was calling her, the usual teasing edge in his voice. He looked at her as a child and let her know it. Sometimes she felt like hitting him for it, but Maharet had made it clear that she wanted harmony in her home. Jesse had bowed her head to the rule.

"I am coming," she called back, shoved the last book into its place and left the library. She briefly wondered what he wanted; maybe he was up to hunting and looking for company.

She found him in the living room, he was sorting through the mail. Four neat stacks of letters were on the table in front of him. When he heard Jesse come, he handed her one of them. She took them and quickly looked at the senders when she felt Eric's eyes on her.

"What?" she asked, a hint of defiance in her voice. She did not feel like answering his prying questions right now.

"May I ask why you get postcards from Santino?"

"You read my mail?" Jesse stared at him angrily.

"Yes. So why does he send you a card?"

"If you read it, you should have noticed that it is not only from him but also from Pandora. She promised to stay in contact with me when we last met, and I suppose that Santino just signed the card. Why do you ask, are you jealous?" Eric shot her a questioning look, he tried to find out what she was thinking. Once again she could see the frustration on his face when he remembered that he could not read her.

"Jealous of Pandora?" He gave a little laugh. "Why should I be jealous of her?." Jesse raised an eyebrow to indicate that she did not entirely believe him. She remembered that the first time she had seen Eric he had been in the company of Santino, but she had never again seen them together. If they had ever been lovers she did not know, and she had never felt like asking. But she had noticed that Eric tensed every time Santino's name was mentioned. Or Pandora's, for that matter. Jesse could tell that Eric did not exactly like the female Roman vampire, and she supposed that Santino had something to do with it.

"Because the last time we all met she and Santino left together, and because they have stayed together ever since." Eric stiffened, and looked at Jesse coldly.

"That was only a year ago, that they are traveling together does not mean anything."

"If it makes you happy to believe that..." Jesse shrugged. Eric had been edgier than usual since Lestat's supposed journey to Heaven and Hell. Something bothered him about it, and she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was exactly. She doubted that he was concerned about Mael's well-being.

The druid had stepped into the sun two days after Armand in a half-hearted attempt to kill himself, or maybe just to see what effects the light would have on him. They had dragged him away, Maharet and Jesse, into a safe place where they had rested for the day. And as soon as the night had come again, Jesse had been sent off to India with him to take care of him while he healed.

She had never asked why Maharet had not come with them. Her maker had returned a month later, a worn out look on her face, and had refused to talk of what had kept her in New Orleans. Jesse had later heard tales, but she did not believe them. It was unthinkable that Maharet would have chained Lestat up in a basement, no matter what state he was in.

"Stop it." Jesse was startled, she hadn't noticed that she had been staring at Eric. "You know nothing." Eric stood, nearly turning over the chair he had been sitting on, and went to the window. Leaning heavily on the sill, he stared out into the night.

"I may lack your enormous experience, but I am not stupid." Eric gave her a malevolent smile.

"That remains debatable." Jesse fought the urge to comment on this and chose that silence was maybe the best answer. Eric had clearly expected her to say something, but she did not feel like having yet another battle of words with him. He had had thirty centuries to practice his stinging comments, and the experience showed.

Gripping her letters, she turned to leave the room. And froze.  
***

"Yes, Armand, we will be there tomorrow evening."

Lestat sounded annoyed, Louis thought, but he seemed to be acting a great deal of it. Listening to Lestat and Armand on the phone was something well worth interrupting his reading, even though Louis could only hear Lestat's side of the talk.

"Well, what did you expect? Should I have waited for somebody to let me in? I would still be standing on your balcony if I had done that. You should be grateful that I didn't break the door." Lestat chuckled. "Don't worry, we will use the door bell, though it is definitely not my style."

Louis shook his head in loving exasperation. Lestat would never stop trying to live up to the concept he had created of himself. The Vampire Lestat, the name stood for everything Lestat wanted to be. And Louis knew that struggling to live up to the standards he had set himself was tiring Lestat more than he wanted to admit.

"Mon Dieu, Armand! You sound as if you think I will bring Armageddon with me..." Louis could imagine Armand's answer on that one. Lestat had a certain ability to attract trouble, and Louis had found that Armand was nearly as talented at it. Sometimes he wondered why those two always had a feud going; they were so similar. Probably that was the reason, they could not stand having another being close who acted as a mirror, reflecting their soul.

Lestat finished the call and came over to Louis, who was sitting on the sofa, the book he had been reading still in his hand. Curiously, Lestat took it and looked at the title, then frowned as he returned it to Louis.

"Dracula? Louis, why do you read that?" Louis sighed, he was not sure if he should bother trying to explain to Lestat that he rather enjoyed reading Bram Stoker's work. It was fiction, and an interesting read. Besides, Louis had become fond of the Victorian writers during the last months and had devoured Mary Shelley's writings as well as Lord Byron's poems. They were dark, but strangely comforting; as if the authors had known of a world that existed within their own yet could not be seen. Louis lived in this world, as did all the other vampires, witches and immortals he had heard of. And he felt that a few mortals had caught a glimpse of their domain.

"I don't see why I should not. Stoker's style is very interesting." Lestat's eyes went wide as always when he listened to Louis talking about some book or other.

"If you want to read a vampire story, why do you have to take the one of that boring Irish? Why not read mine, or Armand's, or Pandora's?" Louis smiled gently, the way an adult smiled at a child before he tried to explain something which he knew the other would not understand.

"Dracula is fiction, it is a tale while the books written by you and the others contain our history. And I do not want to read of all that again."

What he did not mention was that it still hurt him to read of Lestat's love for Akasha, no matter that she had died fifteen years ago. The evidence was in the books, that was one reason why Louis dreaded them. They were the collected proofs and confirmations of everything that had happened, and very often he would not want to be reminded of it. His own years, decades of suffering and self-loathing, the pain to find Lestat only to have him ripped away again. Armand's story had not hurt him nearly as much as Lestat's. Sure, there were triggering elements in it, and Louis had cried when he had read of the horrors Claudia had gone through before her death. But he had felt strangely detached; this all had happened a long time ago, the memories were beginning to fade.

Running his hand over the smooth cover of the book, Louis leaned back on the sofa and gave Lestat a questioning look.

"Are we still going to visit them tomorrow?"

"Yes, though I swear Armand is becoming far too materialistic these days." Louis laughed softly, running a hand through his hair.

"And that from you?"

"I was never materialistic," Lestat stated with an authority in his voice that made Louis feel that commenting on this was not the wisest thing to do if he did not want to spend the rest of the evening listening to Lestat's proofs for his argument.

"Of course you were not."

Contented, Lestat smiled and touched Louis' cheek with his fingertips.

"I knew you would agree with me. Do you think we should bring them presents? Sybelle would certainly like a new piano, wouldn't she?" Louis sighed.

"Lestat, you only sent her a piano two weeks ago. Marius' house is not that spacious, and he must have one of the things standing in every room by now."

Lestat shook his head. "I am sure he has not. Can you imagine a piano in his kitchen?" Louis began to laugh quietly, which appeared to encourage Lestat. "Or the bathroom, so Sybelle could play while she is soaking in the tub?"

"You are being silly, stop it" The blond vampire looked startled.

"How did you find out?" Louis gave him a stern look.

"Stop it."

"Kiss me and I will stop immediately." Expectantly Lestat closed his eyes, waiting for Louis to do what he had told him. Louis smiled and bent forward. A moment before touching Lestat's lips he pulled back, and brought the book he was still holding to his lover's mouth.

Lestat's eyes snapped open in surprise, and he growled at Louis.

"Tomorrow we may be invited, but not tonight." Faster than Louis could even think of it, he was caught in Lestat's arms and pinned to the couch underneath his lover's body. He tried to get away, but stopped writhing as soon as Lestat kissed him gently, running his fingers through Louis' hair and tickling the nape of his neck.  
***

The sound of a fly buzzing through the room was the only noise that could be heard. The insect was drawn to the small lamp on the desk, and kept flying against it until it died in the heat of the light bulb.

Jesse didn't dare to move, not even when she felt a cold brush of air when Eric moved to stand at her side. She didn't even remember to breathe. She only stared at the sight that presented itself to her.

In the door frame, half into the room, stood Mekare, or what Jesse thought had to be her. She had only seen the old vampire once, and that had been so shortly after her death that she had not really taken notice of her. But now Mekare held Jesse's undivided attention. She looked white, nearly translucent, as if she had not fed for too long. Her face was gaunt; had she starved? Green eyes poised on Jesse, she slowly rose a hand that was coated in dirt. After a moment Jesse broke the eye contact, she could impossibly continue looking at this face that was so similar to Maharet's and at the same time so different.

A small noise came from Mekare, a sound of disappointment and disapproval. She was looking at Eric now, and he held her gaze, not blinking once. Jesse could see her eyes widen; what was she trying to do? Then she realized. Mekare, unable to talk, was attempting to communicate with them, and could not hear them, could not reach their minds because they were too close to her. It frightened Jesse only to think of it, to imagine being unable to talk to anybody. Unconsciously, she reached for Eric's hand, and to her surprise he did not pull away but squeezed her fingers reassuringly. She could feel that he was trembling a little; he was scared too of this sight. Jesse prayed for Maharet to come back; but her maker would only be back in a few nights, she had traveled to Moscow with Mael to visit relatives.

"We have to take her back," Eric whispered. Jesse nodded slowly. How had Mekare been able to escape at all? Maharet had always said that it would be impossible for her to escape the hiding place. She had said that nobody would ever be able to reach the Queen, and that she had taken all precautions necessary to prevent Mekare from walking into the sun, unconscious of what she was doing. Did the Queen know that she was the source of life for all vampires? Was she aware of that?

"But how?"

Eric looked at her, then at Mekare. "We lead her back... She hopefully won't resist. We cannot leave her up here."

"Alright. Tell me what to do." Jesse noticed that Mekare was intensely listening to their words, as if she understood them. But she couldn't know what they had said, could she? Maharet had said that her twin had never learned to speak any modern languages, and she could not read Jesse's and Eric's mind to find out what they were talking about.

Eric moved towards the silent figure slowly, Jesse could see that he was carefully avoiding all disjointed movements. He was behaving as if he was trying to capture an untamed animal, and Jesse disapproved of this. She knew that they had to bring Mekare back into her refuge, but there was no reason to treat her as if she was mad. But hadn't Maharet said that the Queen was mindless? Jesse did not know what she should believe. When she went with Eric she felt as if she was doing something wrong, as if she had no right to do this.

Mekare watched their movements attentively, she appeared to be making a plan to escape them. Jesse had seen this look on cats when they were trapped in a corner. And cats used their claws if they could not escape...

Finally Eric was close enough to touch her. He slowly lifted one hand and touched Mekare's shoulder. She did not do anything but turn her head to look at him. Jesse sighed with relief, she had feared that the Queen would react instinctively to the touch, like Lestat had done while in the coma.

"Help me. We have to bring her back to the refuge." Eric had both hands on Mekare's shoulders now, and was beginning to exert pressure. Mekare opened her mouth in silent protest, then took a step forward, into the room.

"Please, Mekare," Jesse pleaded. "You have to go back, you cannot be here." Mekare stared at her, and Jesse saw something like understanding in her eyes. Understanding, but not agreement. Frowning, Mekare shook her head, slowly, very slowly.

"Mekare!" Eric sounded impatient. "You cannot possibly stay here!" He pushed again, and this time stepped back a little. "Jesse, help me, I cannot get her back on my own. Together we should be strong enough." He stepped behind Mekare, and his hands on her arms, he tried to pull her while Jesse watched, not sure what she should do. She was strangely reminded of the first aid course she had had to do when she had done her driving license; the way Eric attempted to drag Mekare away looked like a grip they had learned to get injured people off the street. She finally put her hands on Mekare's shoulders, tried to push her while Eric kept pulling. They managed to move her a few steps backwards, but then Mekare began fighting their efforts and made it impossible to bring her away.

Eric shook his head, he was pale with tension. He knew as well as Jesse what it would mean if they could not take Mekare down into the refuge. She might accidentally kill them all, without even knowing that she was doing it.

"We could try to carry her," Jesse suggested. Eric nodded, and put his arms around Mekare's chest while Jesse bent down to lift her legs.

The next thing she knew was that she was flying through the air. Her body hit the wall a fraction of a second before her head did. The sound she heard could only have come from broken bones; and she could feel blood flow from the back of her head. When she tried to move the room was spinning around her; groaning in pain, she slumped down to the floor, helplessly watching the scene that unfolded before her eyes.

Eric used Mekare's distraction with Jesse to drag her nearly completely out of the room. But now the ancient vampire turned around, faced him. Eric was beginning to tremble, he fell to the floor and began to crawl towards Jesse, one outstretched hand reaching for her. Jesse wanted to help him, she tried to get up only to be slammed back against the wall by an invisible force.

When he had reached the middle of the room, Eric tried to get on his feet again. He nearly managed, but then broke down again, clutching his head. Blood was flowing from his nostrils, and he was turning pale as if he felt intense pain. Mekare followed him slowly, and Jesse could have sworn that she had a satisfied smile on her face. Helplessly she watched as Mekare sat down on the sofa, on the same spot she herself preferred. She could feel that she was close to fainting; she had the eerie feeling of having gone through this already. Hadn't she had a fractured skull before? Thinking hurt, she tried not to do it, to let her mind drift.

A scream, then there was fire in the room. Eric was burning, Jesse could see his silhouette surrounded by flames. It looked pretty when she did not think of it that it was a friend who was dying in front of her eyes. But could he die in a fire at all? She was not sure about that. Maharet had not known if Akasha would be able to kill her fledglings; could Mekare do it? It looked as if she would find out.

The figure - no, Eric- was rolling on the floor in a useless attempt to extinguish the flames that engulfed him. The heat of the fire burned on Jesse's cheeks; this was much hotter than normal flames would be. It hurt her, she felt her skin redden almost immediately. Another scream, more a wail, and another.

Jesse smelled burned hair, burned flesh; she tried to ignore the stench, but it was impossible. She saw Mekare rise, saw her walk towards the window. Would she open it? Yes, she did, but why? She could not find an answer for that question, and continued watching Eric, who was writhing in pain. The screams grew louder.

And then there was silence. Only ashes indicated that there had been a third being in the room seconds ago.

Then the room was on fire. And Mekare was gone.  
***

Treason: Chapter 2 - Metapsychology

"Sure, I love my father, but he's still going through this phase of thinking I'm too young to make my own decisions. About anything. I guess this is what usually happens to parents. When you're born they have to do your thinking for you because you can't do too much of that yourself, and then they get into the habit. They keep trying to think for you practically all your life."  
-Florence Parry Heide  
***

The curtains moved slowly in the night breeze; the cool air caressed Armand's cheeks. He was sitting on the floor in his bedroom, cross-legged, bent over a book that he balanced on his knees. He had moved up here as soon as Sybelle had begun playing the Appassionata on the piano in the living room. Armand liked the sound of it, but sometimes he would not stay there and listen but leave the room. When he was reading, he preferred silence, and the sound of Beethoven's sonata could distract him more than he cared to admit.

Life in Marius' home was not exactly what Armand had expected it to be. He had not wanted to stay at first, but then had not been able to leave when Sybelle and Benji had become more and more attached to Marius and the house. Armand had wanted to take them with him, but he had not had the heart to rip them out of the familiar surroundings yet. They were so young, they had enough to do with adjusting to their new lives. No need to take them away from the place and the people who had become their family.

Armand could tell that they both loved Marius, maybe their affection for their maker was greater than Armand's. Marius had been the one to enable them to live with their angel after all. To them he was a benevolent, wise man who could not hurt those he loved. Armand wished that he too had known Marius like that, but he was well aware of the Roman's bad sides. He had been hurt by him in the past, when Marius would not tell him about his mysterious journeys. Marius had not come to rescue Armand from the Children of Darkness, and from what he had become in their hands. Marius had never looked for him. And now he had taken Armand's children away from him, had made them vampires in the belief that this was what Armand wanted. He had been so wrong.

Suddenly Armand wished that they had not invited Lestat and Louis to visit tonight; he would have rather stayed here and read his book. He was not reading at his usual speed but like mortals did; he had been reading for an hour already and enjoyed it so far. It had been an experiment, to see if he would get bored, and the outcome was that it did not bore him. Sighing, he carefully marked the page and laid the book aside. It was time to get ready for the guests.

Scanning the house quickly, Armand confirmed himself of what he had already expected, that Benji was not home yet. The boy would leave as soon as he woke, and only returned when he began to feel the sunrise coming. Sometimes, if he was too far away, he would simply sleep in the ground or in a deserted building. Both Armand and Marius had tried to convince him that this was a dangerous thing to do, that gambling with the dawn was foolish, but Benji did not want to listen. Hopefully he would be home tonight, Marius had told him that he expected all his fledglings to be here when they had visitors.

All his fledglings but one. Armand wondered briefly about Pandora's whereabouts, he had been surprised to notice one night that she was gone. In his study he had found a letter lying on the desk; she had explained that she and Marius had grown apart once more, and that she needed to renew old relationships. Pandora had left an address behind, and Armand had flinched when he had noticed that it was Santino's.

He did not want to think about the Italian vampire, it always brought back memories of years Armand would rather forget. They had never talked about what had happened between them, and Armand would not be the one to initiate such a discussion. They avoided each other, and he was glad about that. But it hurt to think of Pandora being with him.

Sometimes Armand believed that Marius was trying to establish a relationship with him that went past the love between maker and fledgling. He had blocked all those attempts, he felt too much a substitute for Pandora, no matter how much he would have liked to be Marius' lover. They had to get to know each other again, and could not rush in this. Right now it was enough for Armand to know that he was loved, and he did not want to lose this.

He was dressed casually tonight, in worn jeans and a soft cotton shirt, his hair tied back loosely. Louis would probably think that it was too casual for receiving guests, but Armand did not care what Louis thought. He felt comfortable in the clothes, so he would wear them; Louis would have to accept that.

A low knocking at his door made him turn; scanning to see who was there he smiled when he recognized her.

"Come in."

Sybelle entered the room, her movements slow and fluid as they had been since she had been given the Blood. Marius had dressed her as usual, he cared for her as he had cared for Pandora when she had been in that silent state for so long. Armand knew that Sybelle was headed in that direction, but he hoped that she would be alright once she went to ground. He cared too much for her to watch her mind slowly deteriorate.

"Marius said that our guests will be here in a minute. He wants you to come downstairs."

Armand nodded. "Thank you, my dear." He offered his hand, and together they went down into the living room, where Marius was waiting.

His maker welcomed Armand with a smile, which he returned quickly and automatically. He was beginning to tense as always when Lestat was expected; he could not feel at ease with him around. Whenever they had met Armand's life had turned worse than it had been before, and had only improved slowly. Lestat meant change, and change meant fear. Fear meant hurt.

The sound of the door bell ripped Armand out of his thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair while Marius went to open the door. Lestat stepped inside, a wide grin on his face and a politely smiling Louis behind him.

"Marius! How long has it been since I saw you? It must have been ages."

"Two days, to be exact," Marius replied dryly, mussing Lestat's hair affectionately.

"It seemed a lot longer to me. Good evening, Armand." Armand met Lestat's eyes slowly, he still was not sure if this visit was a reason to feel happy.

"Good evening, Lestat," he replied. "It is nice to have you here." Lestat eyed him suspiciously, then shook his head.

::Don't lie to me.::

::Marius asked me not to start a fight with you tonight:: Armand shot back.

Lestat gave him another look, then went to greet Sybelle, who was sitting at the piano once again. He liked her so much, claimed that it had been her music that woke him from his coma. Armand could not believe this, why should Sybelle's playing have been the reason for him to wake? Lestat's time to rise had probably come.

Armand closed his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts from the images that thinking of the comatose Lestat always provoked. When he blinked again, he found Louis peering at him, a worried look on his face.

"Are you not feeling well, Armand?" he inquired politely. With a dismissive gesture of his hand, Armand sat down on the couch, inviting Louis to take the place next to him, which the other vampire did.

"I am fine, just remembering something." Louis smiled gently.

"It was nice of you to invite us tonight."

"To be honest, it was Marius' idea," Armand clarified. He was not always happy with his maker's attempts to stay in contact with the rest of the coven, especially when it involved long nights in the company of those he would rather not meet. For a moment there was an awkward silence between them, then Louis spoke again.

"I thought so, but it is nevertheless good to see you again. Sometimes I need to know that the others are still alive and well."

"You didn't think so a century ago." Armand was not sure if his words hurt Louis, and he did not care. But Louis appeared to take no offense.

"Yes, you are right. But there were certain events that made me see how precious a family and friends can be."

"Friends can be tiring when they are constantly close," Armand pointed out carefully.

"But they give reassurance. I am glad that we did not lose you."

"Well, what are you talking about?" Lestat plopped down on the couch next to Louis, who immediately leaned back against his chest. Armand felt jealousy for a moment to see them like this, but it was gone as soon as it had come.  
***

Sybelle was playing the piano, she played the Appassionata with an eerie perfection that made Armand nervous. He felt that the personal note of the pianist was missing, the tiny mistakes and tempo changes. She played impossibly correct, exactly as the notes were written down on countless sheets. For a moment Armand wondered if Beethoven had intended his sonata to be that perfect, or if he too had thought little flaws necessary to make the music sound alive. Sybelle's playing was artificial, clinical in a way. It made Armand feel uneasy, he wished she would stop, but knew that he should not tell her to do so. She was so absorbed in the music that he did not dare to interrupt her out of fear to unsettle her.

Lestat and Marius were talking about something, Armand did not bother to listen to them. He was not at all interested in what they did, what he wanted right now was to go back into his room and finish the book he had been reading. That he was not being a very good host tonight he could tell from the glances Marius shot him frequently. His maker was struggling to keep the atmosphere light, and it made Armand feel moodier every minute. He could not say what it was that he detested about this evening, but he was absolutely bored and wished that Lestat and Louis should leave so he would have his peace.

After checking upon Sybelle, who perhaps had not even noticed that he had been standing next to the piano for ten minutes, Armand slumped down on the small couch in the back of the room. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, the others might ignore him.

A minute later he knew that he was not so lucky. He felt the weight of another body on the couch, and was keenly aware that he was being looked at. When he opened his eyes, Louis was staring at him, an expression of faint worry on his face.

"How do you feel?" Louis inquired in his usual polite tone. "You look a little weary tonight." Armand sighed, he really was not up to speaking with Louis right now.

"I am just tired, that is all."

"Maybe you should rest? I am sorry if we kept you awake. We can leave if you would rather sleep." Armand was severely tempted to accept Louis' offer, but he knew that Marius would not be content if he told their guests to leave.

"No, by all means, stay please."

"Are you sure that you are not exhausting yourself?" There it was again, the slight awkwardness Louis and Marius always showed around Armand since he had stepped into the sun. They were treating him as if he were ill, a fragile mind in a even more fragile body. Of course they only meant well, and were concerned about him, but this carefulness was driving Armand crazy. He knew that he was healed, body as well as mind, and that he would not try to kill himself again, if only because he was afraid of the pain. Why could they not just accept what had happened, and stop thinking of him as the child who had to be shielded from all negative influences? Sometimes he wondered why they even let him meet Lestat, though he was well aware that his maker and Louis were trying to keep them from talking. Did they fear that Lestat would drive him over the edge again? In his heart, Armand knew that this would not happen. Not again. He was too great a coward to try to kill himself again; the fear of the pain was what was keeping him alive. But how to explain this to Marius? He would hardly understand.

"Armand?" Louis was looking at him, concern in his eyes. Armand sighed, he had been silent for too long.

"I am sorry, I was lost in thought. What was it that you said?" Louis shot him another questioning look, but did not press any further.

"I was wondering where Benjamin is tonight."

Armand shrugged, wishing that Louis had not brought this up. He did not feel comfortable talking about his children, not since they had been given the Blood.

"He is out somewhere."

"Are you not worried that something might happen to him?" A short laugh escaped Armand's lips, he was too slow to suppress it, though he would have rather stayed silent.

"Benji can very well take care of himself. He is old enough."

"Still he is a child..."

"Louis, he is very well capable of living on his own. There is no need to patronize him constantly, even though you and Marius appear to think it necessary." Armand was well aware that his words were not those of a good host, but he did not care. He was annoyed, and wanted to be out of this situation as soon as possible, to return to the silence of his room.

"You must not forget that he is still young. He needs guidance..."

"So you are implying that I am not taking proper care of him?"

"I did not say that."

"But you meant it." Louis looked at him in silence for a moment, then stood up.

"Maybe it is better if we stop this before we say something we might regret." Armand nodded in agreement, but inside he felt betrayed. He had wanted a fight, had wanted to shout, to say something hurtful, to hear an insult, a blame. But they did not allow him this pleasure, they all just backed away when he became edgy, and when he struck out, they offered the other cheek. He could not stand this behavior.

Louis went over to Sybelle to watch her play, and as soon as he was gone, Armand felt a familiar mind touching his.

::What do you want?:: he asked, sounding maybe a little more rudely than he had intended to.

::Ah, aren't we in a mood tonight.::

::Leave me alone, Lestat.::

::If you wish so. But remember that you can always talk to me if something is wrong.::

::You wouldn't understand.:: He could mentally hear a bitter laugh.

::I understand you better than you think. I have been inside your pretty little head often enough.::

::That's quite enough, Lestat.::

::You think so? A minute ago you were yearning for a fight, and now you would rather not have one? Can't you decide for once what you want?:: Lestat sounded more and more acidly, and Armand simply had enough of this. He stood up abruptly, drawing Marius' and Louis' attention. Only Sybelle kept playing; to the sounds of the final tones of the Appassionata Armand left the room.  
***

It was so wonderful to lose oneself in the melody, to forget the world that surrounded him. Relaxation, something he needed still, though it had been months ago since he had woken to find himself lying on a marble floor in a chapel. He was still going through recovery, and tried to hide this as well as possible from his surroundings. No need to have the others know that he still suffered from nightmares sometimes. They would pity him, and though that was something he enjoyed from time to time, it was too much to have them all worry about him constantly. He craved to be impossible, Marius' Brat Prince. It was expected of him after all, wasn't it? With his strength, nothing should be able to unsettle him. He could not let the others know that this had got under his skin.

Sybelle stopped playing suddenly and looked around, wearing a confused expression.

"What is it, ma chere?" Lestat asked, scanning the room for anything unusual. Sybelle blinked, then turned her face to him.

"Armand..." she whispered. "He is angry." At the moment she spoke those words, Lestat noticed that Armand had disappeared from the room. And judging the expressions of Louis and Marius, he had not just slipped out to get some fresh air.

Was the imp upset? But why? Lestat was concerned, he cared about the vampire who could very well be called his eternal nemesis. Armand meant more to him that he wanted to admit, and it hurt to think of him as unsettled.

"He is angry," Sybelle said in a neutral tone. "I don't like it if he is angry." Marius was giving Lestat an expectant look, and after a second Louis did so as well.

"Alright." He threw up his hands in fake despair. "I will go see what is wrong with him." He wondered why they were sending him to go, especially Marius was normally trying to keep him and Armand apart. Probably to protect one of them, though Lestat could not fathom which one this would be.

He left the room slowly and went upstairs, his steps clearly audible. The last thing Lestat wanted to do was to surprise Armand; he was not up to games tonight. Who knew, maybe they could manage to talk a little, though that seemed not very realistic. Had he and Armand ever talked without going through those more or less hidden power struggles? If they had, Lestat could not remember the occasion. They both were too wary to let the other one get close; there had been too much hurt, too much despair and disappointment in the past.

Lestat reached the door to Armand's bedroom. Hesitating for the fraction of a second, he went inside without bothering to knock. After all he had a reputation to live up to. A little surprised he noticed that the room was dark; somebody had closed the shutters and drawn the curtains. The only light was coming from the hallway through the opened door.

The imp was here, Lestat could sense him clearly. He closed the door again, even though that meant that he would be blind; vampires could see in the dark, but like cats they needed a light source, no matter how dim, to be able to recognize their surroundings. His arms stretched out before him, Lestat felt his way towards the bed where Armand was. The other one had certainly noticed his presence by now, but he did not move away. He did not do anything but making strange, small noises Lestat couldn't quite place at first. Then he knew.

Armand was crying.

But why? Lestat was absolutely unsure of what to do now. He felt that he should leave, that this was not something he was supposed to see. It was so confusing, he had never believed Armand to be capable of crying at all. What now? He took a step backwards, then stopped again. No, he could not possibly return to the others in the living room. They would ask about Armand, and think of Lestat as a heartless bastard when they found out that the imp had been shedding tears.

Slowly Lestat moved towards the bed, he did not know if Armand was sitting there, or lying. He could only hope not to bump into him, he would hardly appreciate that. Settling down on the foot end of the mattress, Lestat looked in the direction where he assumed Armand's head was.

"Sybelle is worried about you."

No answer.

"And Marius and Louis are concerned as well."

Armand remained silent, save for the occasional quiet sob. Why was he crying at all?

"And... I would like to know too what is wrong."

"So you can mock me?" Armand's voice sounded hoarse. "If that is what you want, go on, do it."

Lestat shook his head in confusion, unaware that the other could not see his gesture.

"I just wanted to know if you are alright."

"Your concern is the last thing I want. I get enough of that." Lestat's confusion was growing with every word Armand said. Did he not want to be pitied?

"No," Armand replied, obviously reading his thoughts. "I don't want your concern, I don't want anybody's concern. Why can't you all stop treating me as if I were a child who needs to be protected from the world?"

Puzzled, Lestat pondered Armand's words for a moment. They had all been taking care of the imp, Marius had fulfilled every wish he could have. Why did he not want that, wasn't this wonderful, to be pampered and loved? Of course not, Lestat answered himself. Not if you are accustomed to having to fight for everything through all your life. Not if those small confrontations and fights are something you are used to. Still there was no need to be crying over such a thing.

"Maybe because you are behaving like a child." Lestat tried to sound friendly, but didn't quite succeed.

"You think so? You really believe me to act not my age?" There was a dangerous edge to Armand's voice, which would have made most people consider their next words carefully. Lestat, of course, was the exception that proved the rule.

"Exactly."

"And what makes you think that?" Lestat smiled maliciously.

"You are hiding in your room and crying, like one of those teenagers. Let me tell you that this does not make you look like an adult, Armand."

"Be careful about your words."

"Stop pretending to be angry. Clutch your teddy bear if it makes you feel better, but don't talk to me like this." Lestat was wondering about Armand's attitude, he seemed even more edgy than usual. Something told him to be cautious, but Lestat pushed that thought back. He was enjoying this.

"Why did you come at all, can't I have peace for once?" Armand was sounding exactly the way he had in a night 150 years ago, when he had pushed Lestat down the tower. Better to tread carefully now.

"Ask me to go then." Nice and provocatively said; Lestat had always liked to play with fire.

"Go."

"No."

"Lestat!"

"I didn't say I would leave, I only said you should ask."

He had only uttered the last word when something hit him and threw him off the bed. Lestat could feel hands clutching at his arms, trying to push him down against the floor. Oh, this was better than he had thought his evening could become! He flipped them both over; Armand was now lying beneath him, no match for his power. Nevertheless the imp was fighting savagely to get free; he writhed, tried to wriggle out of Lestat's grip. Lestat just smiled down at him, knowing that Armand could not see his face in the dark. Then Armand stilled, and Lestat relaxed a little, only to suddenly find himself flat on his back. His hand shot upwards, hit Armand's face; the noise of bones breaking could be heard. Armand let go of him, not before he had scratched Lestat's cheek and placed a rather well-aimed blow in his stomach.

Lestat tried to scan for Armand's presence, but the imp was shielding his mind perfectly. Scrambling to his feet, he felt his way towards the door and switched on the light.

Armand was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the frame of the bed. His nose was bleeding, Lestat knew that Armand was feeling the bones knit together again this very moment. The scratch on his own cheek had healed almost immediately, one of the advantages of such powerful blood. Carefully Armand straightened his shirt, then looked at Lestat and did the last thing he would have expected.

He smiled.

"Thank you. I really needed this." Lestat raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"I broke your nose, and you are grateful?" Armand grimaced and slowly touched his face, wincing when his fingers reached his nose.

"You could have been a little more careful, but still... You have no idea how much I wanted this."

Lestat shot him another puzzled look; was Armand saying that he had enjoyed the fight?

"Yes, I liked it."

Damned mind reader, stay out of my head.

"Shield yourself better then," Armand said and shot him another smile, getting to his feet. "I suppose I should clean up myself, Marius would only ask questions if he saw me like this."

"Armand."

"What?"

Lestat stepped closer and took his hand. "I am sorry about your nose."

"Never mind."  
***

Treason: Chapter 3 - Purgatorio

Confutatis maledictis,  
flammis acribus addictis,  
voca me cum benedictis.  
Oro supplex et acclinis,  
cor contritum quasi cinis,  
gere curam mei finis.  
-Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Requiem  
***

The first thing Maharet realized when she looked down was that the big colonial-style house was afire. Flames were everywhere, she could feel the intense heat though she was still flying far above the burning building. Where were the others, had they been able to escape? Frantically she scanned for Mael, found him almost immediately, his mind full of confused thoughts and images. She tried to contact him, but he did not answer, he was concentrating on something else and maybe did not hear her call. Quickly she flew towards him, she needed to know that Eric and Jesse were alright, that they were not hurt. He could call them, could hear them as she could not. And what about her sister? She should be safe in the refuge deep below the house, but what if the heat and the roaring of the flames had woken her? No, that would be nearly impossible. Mekare had not moved for fifteen years, there was no reason for her to awake just now.

She finally spotted Mael, he was kneeling in the grass, a safe distance from the house, bent over a small figure. Maharet knew that it was Jesse even before she saw the face, the red hair. Where was Eric then? Certainly he had not stayed inside the house, he was too strong to be trapped there. And even if he were, the fire could not hurt him anymore. Her blood had made him powerful, strong enough to withstand the heat of the flames without any major injuries. Had he left for a trip to one of the small towns that were close? He sometimes did that, maybe he was not here right now.

Descending quickly, Maharet landed next to Mael, who spun around when he felt her presence, a fierce expression on his face. He seemed ready to defend himself, appeared to be prepared for whatever attacker might come. Strange that he did not recognize her at first, he had already raised his fist to attack her when realization dawned on him. What had happened here to make him that nervous? Mael was not somebody who had his temper under control all the time, but never before had he been about to lash out at her. It was as if he had not known who she was.

A low moan made him turn his attention to the body that was lying behind him. He knelt down at Jesse's head, and Maharet flinched when she saw what had happened to her fledgling. Her clothes were torn, her hair disheveled and full of clumps of dried blood. The back of her head was one sole wound; Maharet was painfully reminded of the night she had created Jesse. The frail woman had looked the same back then, having been thrown against a wall by a reckless vampire.

"Mael, what happened here?" she asked, tearing off the sleeve of her dress in her frenzy to expose her wrist. "What happened to Jesse?" She raised her hand to her mouth to make a wound, to offer Jesse her blood.

Mael shook his head, and caught Maharet's wrist in his hands.

"I have tried already, but she would not drink."

"What do you mean, she won't drink?" Maharet placed her wrist at Jesse's mouth, and watched with growing horror as the blood flowed down her fledgling's chin without any reaction.

"She must be in a coma, she was awake when I found her, but she has neither talked nor moved since then." Plain worry in Mael's voice; Maharet knew how much Jesse meant to him.

"Can you hear her thoughts? Talk to her, tell her that she is not alone, maybe that will wake her."

"There is only silence, she is unconscious. Maharet," Mael looked at her directly, a more serious expression on his face than ever before. "She said something before she became... silent."

"What? Mael, what did she say?"

"That Mekare has risen, and that they should not have done what they did and will now pay the price."

"Who? What does this mean? Did she say anything else?"

"Yes..." It was clear that Mael was reluctant to tell her about this.

"What? You have to tell me." Mael took her hand before he spoke.

"She said that Eric is dead, that your sister killed him."

Maharet fell silent, she could not believe what she just heard. It simply could not be true, Eric was too strong to be killed that easily, her blood had been powerful enough to protect him. No, this had to be a lie, Mael had to be making this up. There was no possibility that Eric was dead. It could not be.

But why should Mael be lying to her?

She scanned his mind, tried to find any evidence for what he had said, wanted to see through his eyes what had happened when Jesse had been awake. As soon as she found the memories, she wished she had not done this. It hurt so much to see this, to see her daughter, her fledgling lying on the ground in her own blood, weakly attempting to get up while murmuring incoherent phrases.

Mekare risen... should not have done this... not right... will pay the price... Eric dead... by Mekare's hand...

Maharet could not guess what this meant, and why Mekare had done this. Jesse and Eric had never hurt her, why had she attacked them? Why had she killed Eric, her sister's fledgling? Had she not known that Maharet loved him? Or had she done it just because of that? Perhaps Mekare had wanted to hurt her sister, to punish her for something... but Maharet could not think of any mistake she might have made. She had always taken care of her sister, had washed her, dressed her, even brought victims down into the refuge though Mekare never touched them. Maharet had offered her sister a home, a safe place to hide. She had protected her against the others who might come to take her blood, or to destroy her. Was this the reward? Hadn't Maharet always made sure that all the others of their kind were well, that they observed the rules?

No. She had not. The rules had been broken, not once but several times. Lestat had violated them in making David Talbot a vampire, Marius had even created two fledglings though they had all agreed that no more vampires were to be made. Armand and Pandora had written books that further exposed their kind to the prying mortals. Was Mekare angry because of this? Did she think that Maharet was not worthy to rule in her name? But she could not have killed Eric and hurt Jesse just to punish her... Then again, who knew how Mekare thought, how she reasoned. She had been lost to the world for so long, she could have lost all sense of reality; the attack could have been a way for her to show her disapproval.

Again Maharet tried to feed Jesse, tried to force her to take the blood. At first there was no reaction, then Jesse just pressed her lips together tightly, she refused to drink and began to toss her head to escape the blood, as if she were frightened of it. She began to panic, tried to get to her feet only to fall to the ground again. Maharet attempted to soothe her, but her words did not reach her. Whatever had happened to Jesse, it had left her in a state of shock, and Maharet could only hope to get her out of it.  
***

Treason: Chapter 4 - Urban Jungle

"There's no time to lose, I heard her say. Catch your dreams before they slip away."  
\- The Rolling Stones, Ruby Tuesday  
***

The street was crowded with people trying to get anywhere; the pavement was packed with human bodies. She had to be careful not to crush anybody accidentally, people would only ask questions. Enough eyes were poised on her already as it was; men were constantly turning to watch her walk. She smiled a little, she enjoyed being the object of their desires. With her curvaceous figure and her tight clothes that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, she was the center of everybody's attention.

She had fed plenty this night, her cheeks were blushed, and her skin warm enough to pass for human. Of course the heat would wear off, but all that counted was the present time. If she became cold, she would just feed again, though she did not need the blood regularly anymore. Still she liked to hunt, it was part of her life, and it was a pleasant way to get warm. There were too many tourists, drug dealers and prostitutes anyway.

Making her way towards Piccadilly Circus, she stopped for a moment in front of the box office of a theatre, and a minute later she had two tickets for her favorite musical in her hands. Mesmerizing mortals was so easy; she came here so often to get tickets, she knew exactly how to make the thin woman in the office give her the desired pieces of paper without having to pay for them. How often had she seen the chandelier come down, sixty times perhaps? By now she knew all the songs by heart, she had seen the very first performance ever and would see the last.

A man was suddenly walking next to her, attempting to start talking with her. He was quite handsome with his short blond hair and his blue eyes; not older than maybe twenty-five. What a pity that she had already fed, this one would have been perfect to satiate her hunger. But she would not take him now, she did not like to feed when there was no need to do so. She replied to his questions, said a few friendly words, and he soon slipped his arm around her waist. Giggling, she did not protest but leaned against him, allowing him to bury his nose in her hair.

They reached the square, and smiling one last time at her new companion, she left his arms and went to kiss a tall, black-haired man who had been sitting on the steps of the Cupid statue. He drew her close, and she watched him wink at the blond mortal who quickly continued walking, clearly disappointed.

Santino let go of her again, and shook his head when he saw the musical tickets in her hand.  
"Again? One should think that you would tire of that show finally." She smiled, and slipped the tickets into the pocket of his jacket.

"I will never have enough of it, and neither will you." He cast her an inquiring look, together with a slight grin.

"How do you know that?"

"Why else would you come with me every time I have tickets? Don't tell me that you just come with me to protect me from the oh so evil men around me."

"Pandora, to protect you of your admirers an army wouldn't be enough."

"Shameless flatterer. But go on, I like it." She smiled when he embraced her once again, he was kissing her, and she tasted a few drops of his blood when he cut his tongue on her fangs. Pressing her body against him and feeling his hands on the small of her back, Pandora knew that they were making quite a show. If they had not been in England, the walkers-by would have stopped to watch.

Finally she broke the kiss, and they walked through the streets, hand in hand. This time Pandora enjoyed the envying glances she received from other women; she could read their minds easily enough to know that not few of them thought Santino horribly attractive. Sighing happily, she rested her head on his shoulder, letting him steer them in the direction of the river Thames. The musical would only start in an hour, there was plenty of time to walk along the embankment and watch the moon's reflection glitter on the water.

She was just reaching up to touch the nape of Santino's neck when he suddenly froze in mid-pace. Alarmed she scanned, and immediately found what had caught his attention. Another vampire was close, a powerful one. That alone was reassuring her; nearly all of those older than two hundred years were part of the Coven, and the young fledglings could not possibly hurt her or Santino. She knew that she had to be more afraid for her lover than for herself; he was so much weaker than her, and an enemy strong enough could kill him. She would not let this happen if she could possibly prevent it.

A movement in the shadows of a garage entrance made her start; angrily she tried to see who was there, and sighed in exasperation when she recognized the face.

"Oh, it is only you."

David smiled at her. "Good evening Pandora," he nodded to her companion, "Santino, nice to see you. I am sorry to have disturbed you, I did not know you were in London."

::I knew it would be a mistake to come here::, she heard Santino speak directly to her mind while he greeted David coldly. ::Now we will not be able to do anything without him knowing.::

::He is no longer Talamasca, Santo.::

::He has been a part of them, and he will always be. A leopard does not lose his spots. I don't want to be in the same city as that prying Englishman.::

Pandora fought to suppress a grin, it was hard to keep a straight face. Santino was very calm and reserved when it came to others, there was not a lot that could agitate him. An exception was David, he did not like the fledgling and made no attempt to hide it. Pandora could only guess that the reason for his animosity was that to him David was nothing but the result of Lestat's eagerness to break the rules. Santino had agreed to the rules, had helped Marius to create them. David's making had been a direct violation of them, and Santino probably felt offended.

She was really glad that she had not told him of Marius' new fledglings. If Santino found out about those two, he was going to feel betrayed, and that with good reason. After all it had been Marius who had devised the rules, and they had all vowed to obey them. And now Marius had broken them. Pandora herself did not care a lot about this; she was not planning to make a fledgling, had not done so in nearly a millennium. As for the other rules, they concerned her safety, and it lay only in her interest not to break them.

"I bid you farewell then," David said, smiling at them. "There are some things that require my attention." Pandora could feel Santino's relief at these words, he had certainly feared that they would not be able to get rid of David for the rest of the night.  
***

Sighing with relief when he saw that annoying Talamascan disappear around a corner, Santino turned to Pandora. She was smiling at him, that certain smile she had, the tips of her fangs showing just a little. It made him want to kiss her, to tell her that they see the musical another night and instead return to their apartment. Judging by her teasing wink, she knew exactly what he was thinking; not really surprising, after all she was a talented mind reader and he was not shielding very tightly at the moment. She let him know that she was thinking the same as he.

"You know that if we go home now, we will miss the musical you wanted to see," Santino said slowly, already turning to go.

Pandora nodded. "Yes, but we can go and see it tomorrow night, after all it is not the final performance we will miss."

"A night at home, then."

"It would seem so."

"Do you mind?"

Pandora looked at him, smiled, then kissed his cheek. "You need to ask?"

Laughing a little, Santino took her hand and brought it to his lips.

"Just being polite."

Pandora rewarded him with another smile, and they slowly walked towards their home. They had rented an apartment in the center of London, only a minute's walk away from Trafalgar Square. With sound-proof windows protecting them from the traffic noise, it was the perfect home for them, right in the middle of everything. Pandora loved the London night life, and Santino loved to watch her milling with mortals in the streets. It made her appear so alive, and she enjoyed it greatly; since she had woken from her trance-like state years ago, she was hungering to live.

"Look, up there!"

They were just passing Trafalgar Square, and Pandora excitedly pointed upwards. Santino looked in the direction she was indicating and had to smile. Two mortals had climbed Nelson's Column, unnoticed by the people down on the square. They were clinging to the Admiral's legs while unrolling a banner.

"Greenpeace, it seems," Santino said when he read the inscription on their flag. "'You can't sink a Rainbow.' As far as I recall, that was proved wrong, wasn't it?" Pandora gave him a mildly disapproving look.

"It is the idea that matters, not the ship." She did not say anything else but looked up to the two protectors of the environment. They appeared to have difficulties with their flag, the wind made it hard for them to hold it and steady themselves at the same time.

Santino watched them too, silently guessing which one would be the first to fall from the column. Mortals would take such risks to save rainforests and whales, but when it came to simple things like recycling paper and plastic they did not even bother to try most of the time. He knew that he probably was not a shining example for trash separation, but he tried to sort his waste. Knowing that with some luck you would still walk this planet in two hundred years suddenly made avoiding to produce trash look a lot more worthwhile. Though he did not take to extremes like some humans, he did his share to make sure that clean water and air continued to exist. Most vampires he knew regularly donated money to conservation groups; they were only protecting their hunting grounds.

"Come, Santo, let's help them." Without waiting for his reply Pandora quickly took to the air, oblivious to the few passers-by. Santino sighed; she had made the front page of the rainbow press more than once with this attitude, fortunately they had not been discovered yet. He suspected that Pandora collected the newspaper articles that were written about herself; to her taking calculated risks was entertaining. Santino had got used to it by now, and usually just waited until she returned to his side, hoping that she would not overdo it.

Pandora had risen to the level of the Greenpeace activists; Santino could see their unbelieving stares from the place where he was standing. They were holding onto Nelson's statue, Pandora's appearance had clearly startled them. After all, who expected to see a woman hover in the air 200 feet above the ground? They were taking it rather well, Santino thought; neither of them had screamed or fallen off yet.

The flag was being twisted by the wind, the mortals could not do anything about it. They were waving and shaking it in a helpless attempt to make the inscription readable. Pandora suddenly dropped a few meters and reached for the cloth to untangle it. Then she waved at the two men and descended until she landed gracefully at Santino's side.

"You should have joined us up there, the view is fantastic," she said, running a hand through her tangled hair. She had left it open tonight, dark curls cascaded down her back. It looked good, though she cut it nearly every morning before she fell asleep so she would not have to comb out the snarls and knots in the evening. The change from the long mane to a military-style haircut always offered Santino the chance to mock her; but it was only good-natured teasing, and Pandora nearly always laughed about his comments. If he went too far, which seldom happened, he would find himself pinned to the floor, Pandora on top of him with a predatory grin on her face. All in all, it could be much worse, he mused.

"Thank you, cara mia, but if I want to appreciate the sight of London from above I don't necessarily do that in front of watching mortals." Santino smiled to take the sting out of the words, and Pandora gave him a peck on the cheek.

"You don't know what you are missing." They crossed the street at the traffic lights - the risk of just walking across a London street in any place was too great even for Pandora - and could already see the windows of their apartment.

"I just don't understand what is so interesting in sitting on Nelson's Column and watching houses from above."

"Santo," Pandora announced dramatically, "You aren't the least bit romantic."

"Neither are you. What's your point?" This time he had her, he knew it. She threw her arms up in mock despair, then burst out giggling. "Have you finally lost your mind?"

"Shut up and kiss me." Santino obeyed her instantly, one arm slipped around her hip, the other around her shoulders. Tasting her blood from a tiny cut she had made in her tongue, he sighed with content. This was what he wanted from life right now, to be in the company of somebody who loved him, and whom he loved. He had lived for other goals, but had found that this one was the most satisfying, though also hardest to achieve. He should have realized this a lot earlier.

After breaking the kiss, they walked in a comfortable silence, interrupted by the occasional gentle mind touch until they reached the door to their home. As usual Pandora unlocked it with her mind, Santino could hear the key turn at the inside. He was able to do this as well, but for Pandora it was much easier; her strength was by far superior to his. It was not something that bothered Santino, he would grow stronger in time. No need to hurry.

Pandora just reached for the handle when she suddenly froze and her gaze unfocused. A moment later Santino heard it as well; the annoying voice of the Talamascan.

Screaming for help.

Santino's first reaction was to slam all his shields in place; no need to have whatever was threatening the Talamascan discover him as well. They had to leave as long as there was time; run first, then you will be able to ask questions later. Turning to talk to Pandora about their new destination, Santino was startled to see her rush down the stairs. Did she mean to leave without him? It was not even a bad idea, together they would be easier to catch by that still nameless danger.

::Santo, where are you? We have to help David!:: He suppressed a curse; he should have known that she would not think of saving herself first. Santino was much more egoistic in this regard, he only started to worry about others after he was sure he would stay alive himself.

::Are you crazy? You have got no idea what is threatening him, what if you are hurt?:: He did not like to think of this possibility, but that it was not pleasant did not mean that it could not happen.

::I don't care. He is one of us, and he asked for help.:: Pandora sounded a little annoyed, as always when she was trying to argue with Santino. Three hundred years of reasoning others into submission had taught him a thing or two.

::He is not one of us, Pandora. He should not even exist.:: And if Santino had gotten his way, the Talamascan would have never been created. He still wondered why none of the others had done anything when Lestat's infatuation with the mortal had become obvious. They should know that such relationships usually ended with a fledgling.

::And why is it up to you to decide this?:: She was sending him an image of where she was going, clearly expecting him to follow her.

::I am not deciding it. His making was against the rules, you cannot ask of me to be happy about the fact that Lestat doesn't give a damn about them.::

::Will you come now or not?:: As so often when he mentioned the rules vampires were supposed to live according to, Pandora backed away and changed the topic. Santino did not know why she was doing it, and whenever he asked her he received evasive answers. He was not aware of any failure from her side, and it made him wonder why she disliked to talk about this topic. There had to be something wrong, but if Pandora did not want to tell him she would not; he had come to dread her stubbornness.

::At least wait for me.:: Sighing deeply, he left the house and hurried through the streets, too fast for mortal eyes to see. He did not like to move this way; it always startled mortals to feel a sudden rush of air pass them. A few centuries ago rumors of witches and ghosts had been started by this more than once.

Pandora opened her mind a little to enable him to home in on her. Apparently she did not care that she could be easily found by any being with telepathic abilities; Santino kept his mind tightly shut in fear of discovery. Disappearing was something he was good at, and he knew that it was often safer not to be known to be around. What disturbed him was that the Talamascan's screams had stopped. Either he was safe again, or not able to beg for help anymore. Santino hoped the first, though he suspected that the later had happened.

Whatever was happening here, he was sure that the Talamascan had not been screaming for help without a reason. And if somebody as strong as him could not handle the situation, it had to be out of control. Santino shuddered as he imagined the things that could actually present a danger to Lestat's youngest and strongest fledgling. No, this was definitely not good at all. They should really leave the city, should hide for a few days and talk to the others about this occurrence.

::What takes you so long?:: Pandora's voice echoed in his mind with an impatient undertone. Santino could tell that she was at least disturbed by the situation, but she did not seem to be really frightened. Why couldn't she accept a danger for once?

::I am sorry, but I don't have your powers, cara mia,:: he shot back, making his way through the pedestrians.

::You underestimate yourself,:: came the immediate reply. ::Why don't you simply fly?::

::And find myself as tomorrow's headline? Declined with thanks.:: Santino began to play through a few scenarios in his head, something he always did if faced with a difficult situation. It helped him to make decisions a lot faster, and he tried to have every advantage possible.

Let's say that this thing can't be defeated... the best would be to get away as fast as possible, and not in the same direction as Pandora. That way their chances to escape increased by fifty percent. And what if it can probably be killed, would a fight be worth it? There was always a certain risk, though the Talamascan might have weakened the mysterious threat. But since Pandora would attack it in that case, Santino would not leave her alone. Of course there was always the possibility that they were killed; what happened afterwards was none of his concerns.

He saw Pandora standing in the light of a lantern, looking wary yet composed; if she was afraid she did not show it. So brave, Santino thought, but the line between bravery and stupidity was dim. He himself was afraid, and knew it very well. No need to suppress it, fear heightened the senses anyway. Outwardly he appeared calm to anybody who did not know him; he had learnt it well not to show any emotions.

Pandora certainly noticed his wariness when he approached her; she had told him that when he was unsettled he tended to constantly look around, not stare at one single spot. Very much like her to notice such a thing, even Santino found it difficult from time to time to hide something from her. She was a keen observer, and very apt at noticing the smallest traces of nervousness.

"Thank you that you have come," she said in a serious voice.

"You know that I would not have left you alone in this," he replied in the same tone. Pandora gave him a small smile before she spoke.

"Yes, but I also know that you would have rather left the city as fast as possible. I could not be sure what you would choose to do in the end."

"Cara mia..." Raising a hand to touch his cheek, she looked into his eyes.

"You don't have to excuse yourself for thinking of your own safety, beloved. It would have been the wisest choice to leave." She laughed softly. "I have never been wise."

"Neither have I." Santino smiled a little, then took her hand. Pandora's skin was cold, though he knew she had fed plenty this night. Squeezing his hand reassuringly, Pandora walked towards the place where they had last sensed the Talamascan. The houses around them changed slowly, Lestat's fledgling lived in one of the noble areas of the city. The streets were much cleaner at a sudden, and the houses were old and well-preserved, iron-wrought fences everywhere.

At some time Santino felt the first raindrops and sighed inwardly. He had never got to terms with the English weather, hated its recklessness. In Italy, when you were told that the next week would be sunny, this was a reliable prognosis. In England you better took your winter garments out of the closet and bought a few umbrellas. He was glad about the leather jacket he was wearing, it would keep him dry in this hopefully short drizzle. Pandora did not care if she became wet; she always said that she liked to be out in the rain. Santino suspected that this came from watching too many Fred Astaire movies, but as long as she did not start singing, it was fine by him. She was the one who had to wear the wet clothes after all.

Turning around a corner, they both froze in mid-step.

Maharet was standing in the middle of the road, with something that looked suspiciously like the remnants of the late Talamascan at her feet.  
***

Not daring to move a muscle, Pandora took in the scene. Maharet was standing there, melting fragments of ice that most likely were the result of a flight in her hair. And on the street, just a few steps away from her feet, greasy ashes and blackened shreds of cloth. Half of a shirt sleeve; glittering metal that might have once been a watch or a cufflink.

The ancient vampire looked down at what remained of David, then met Pandora's gaze, a blank expression on her face. What had happened here? Who had killed the Talamascan, had it been Maharet, or somebody else? But to burn him that thoroughly, Pandora thought, one had to be powerful; more powerful than most of the vampires who roamed the earth. She knew all the strong ones who had survived the nights when the Mother had risen, it had to be one of them! But who would do such a thing? Who would kill one of their own kind, one who was Lestat's fledgling? Pandora seriously doubted that anyone would dare to do this; nobody would deliberately risk Lestat's wrath.

"What is the meaning of this?" Santino asked in a neutral voice. Pandora silently thanked him for asking the obvious question. Maharet gave him a strange look, then stepped away from David's ashes.

"The Queen demanded this."

"The Queen? Your sister?" Santino's voice became sharper, Pandora hoped he did not forget who he was talking to.

"Mekare, yes. She has chosen to no longer watch her children break the laws that were created in her name." Maharet reached up to brush her hair out of her face, and suddenly tears glittered in her eyes. "I have failed her, I have not enforced the laws as it was my duty. Mekare punished me, she destroyed my home..." A sob interrupted her. "She burnt Eric..."

Pandora was not sure if she had heard right. Mekare had killed her sister's fledgling? She cast Santino a quick look before she watched Maharet again. He seemed calm and collected as always, but she suspected that below the carefully maintained surface he was hiding his true feelings about this. Eric had been his friend, certainly his death was not something Santino could take without batting an eyelid. She would talk with him about this later, as soon as they had mastered this situation.

"What about the others?" Santino asked, his voice so cold that it startled Pandora to hear the question. "Jesse and Mael, what happened to them?"

"Mael brought her out... She was hurt... Mekare hurt my fledgling to express that she is not pleased with my actions..." Maharet's cheeks were stained with crimson already; the sobs were shaking her.

"Did you talk to your sister?" She shook her head. "Then how do you know that she wants to castigate you by her actions?"

"Why else should she be doing it?" Maharet whispered, making a futile attempt to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I should have paid more attention to what was going on... The rules have been broken too often..."

"David Talbot's making was a violation of our laws. But we also agreed that we will not rise against each other. You killed him. Does that not mean that you are guilty of breaking the rules as well?" Maharet shot him an angry look that made Pandora flinch. Santino, however, held his ground. "Maharet, you made the same mistake."

::Ease up, Santo, for Heaven's sake! She is unbalanced enough already, do you want to drive her completely over the edge?:: Pandora was becoming really worried, she feared that he might go too far. If Maharet choose to lash out at him, Pandora could not do anything about it.

::I know what I am doing, cara mia. And we need answers.::

"I am not breaking the rules, Santino. I exact punishment on those who did wrong. He," she pointed at the ashes of David, "should have never been made. I only corrected Lestat's mistake. I will correct Marius' as well." Pandora could feel that Santino was giving her a questioning look, but she did not meet his eyes. "And then I will in the name of the Queen exact retribution from those who told the mortal world about us." Pandora did not dare to breathe; her story had been published, certainly Maharet knew of this!

"Maharet, you can't..." Pandora was interrupted by the ancient vampire.

"I can, and I will. You yourself have partaken in revealing our secrets. You have to be punished." Pandora's mind raced, she struggled to find a way out of this, to make it clear to Maharet that she had not had the least intention to tell the world about the secrets of vampires.

"No, you will not," Santino rose to her defense. "Pandora has told her story to David in the belief that he would keep it private. She could not know that he would make a book of it." He quickly glanced at Pandora before he continued. "If she had known of his plans, she would have never spoken to him, lest write her biography down for him to read. She is innocent."

Maharet gave her a long, measuring look, then seemed to suddenly reach a conclusion. She looked at Santino and actually smiled a little. Pandora relaxed considerably, but remained ready to run in case the other one changed her mind.

"Your arguments are convincing. Is what he says the truth?" Nodding quickly, Pandora shielded her mind as tightly as possible. She had not known what David would do with her story, that was true. But she had not cared, and had even been proud to see her book on display in the store windows.

"Forget about your crusade, Maharet. There is no need to do this." Santino took a step towards her. "None of the others have broken the rules."

"You are wrong, Santino. Armand and Lestat have written books even though we have agreed not to do this."

"Armand also told his story to the Talamascan. The situation is the same as with Pandora."

"He must have known what would happen. He told David to make a book of what he told him." Santino was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. It amazed Pandora how he could stay so calm through this; had he been like this when he had led the coven? She had not known him back then, and had never before seen this cold side of him.

"Talbot tempted him into telling his story. Maharet, you know as well as I what Armand had just gone through at that time. The Talamascan used his unsettlement and his doubts."

"He will have to be chastised."

"Don't forget what you are talking about. Don't say that you will chastise him when in reality you are going to burn Armand until only ashes remain of his body. Armand's auburn curls, the big brown eyes, you are talking of destroying that. Imagine Armand's youthful features distorted as he is screaming in pain, imagine Armand's delicate white skin blackened and full of blisters. Armand would be gone forever if you do this."

Pandora had to admire this, he was drawing a picture of Armand in Maharet's mind, saying his name as often as possible, making her see the vampire as a person. This worked with mortal kidnappers, kept them from hurting their victims. It remained to be seen if it could be used on six thousand years old vampires as well.

"I don't want to talk about this any longer. I have to do my duty." With this, Maharet disappeared suddenly. For what seemed like hours and probably were minutes, they remained quiet, did not move. Then Santino took a deep breath.

"It seems we have a problem." Pandora nodded in agreement.

"She won't stop what she is going to do."

"No, but she might hesitate a little longer before killing the next." Santino's matter-of-fact tone made Pandora realize finally what could have happened to her. Trembling she went into Santino's arms, felt him embrace her, rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered in a shaky voice.

"She will leave you in peace, cara mia. Don't worry." His arms tightened around her, he was kissing the top of her head gently. "Don't worry. You are safe." Pandora nodded, clinging to this belief. She was much more afraid now than when Maharet and Santino had argued if she was guilty.

"We have to tell the others." She had to warn Marius, so he could hide Sybelle and Benji somewhere. And Armand, what if Santino had not succeeded in keeping Maharet from attacking him?

"We will. But tell me, cara mia," he looked into her eyes, "what did Marius do that was against the rules?" Pandora knew that he deserved to know, that she had to tell him simply because then he would help her to save the two fledglings. And tell him she did, she poured everything about Sybelle and Benji, how they had rescued Armand, how they had been made, her nervousness constantly growing. She had no idea how Santino would take this, he certainly would be hurt that she had not told him before. Completely understandable, she had kept something important from him. He would be angry, and maybe distance himself from her...

His reaction surprised her.

"Marius, you Roman fool," he said simply. "Come, Pandora. We need to get there before Maharet does, or I will never be able to meet those fledglings."  
***

Treason: Chapter 5 - Apocalypse Now

There's no honorable way to kill, no gentle way to destroy. There is nothing good in war. Except its ending.  
\- Abraham Lincoln  
***

The day had been hot; an hour after sunset the bricks of the pavement still radiated warmth. The air smelled of jasmine and rain, there would most likely come a short shower sometime in the night. So peaceful to walk through the streets, occasionally stepping aside to make place for passers-by.

Armand had fed, had crossed the path of an old man who had no longer remembered where he lived, or what his name was. Helplessly he had wandered through the streets of the Garden District; Armand following him in some distance for a while until he decided that he did not want to wait any longer. He had taken the man quickly; there had been no images coming from the mortal's mind, only a soft gray mist that softly embraced Armand before he pulled away again.

He was returning home already, or rather to Marius' house; yesterday night Lestat had mentioned that he might stop by and spend some more time with them. Lestat had enjoyed the night, Armand was sure of that. Their little fight had gone unnoticed, though Marius had given him a few inquiring looks when he had noticed that Armand kept touching his nose carefully. But he had mercifully said nothing, and Lestat had kept his mouth shut also. Armand was grateful for this, he did not want the others to know what had happened, they would only be more attentive and caring, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Benji was out again, he had mentioned to Sybelle that he would be gone for a few nights to be on himself a little. Armand did not know what he was doing, neither did he really care. Nobody doubted that Benji was capable of taking care of himself; there was no reason to constantly monitor him. They were too occupied with being concerned about Armand anyway to give the young fledgling a second thought.

When he reached the iron gate of Marius' garden, Armand stopped for a moment before he went inside, to collect his thoughts somewhat. Shielding would not be necessary, though of course he always maintained basic defenses. It was more important for him to keep his face a mask, so Marius would not think that something bothered him. In this regard Armand was glad that Pandora was gone; he had constantly had the feeling that she knew exactly what he was thinking. Certainly she was able to read his mind whenever she wanted; from one so powerful it was difficult to veil thoughts.

Entering the garden and walking the short path to the front door, Armand's steps became slower when he realized that another vampire was close. He had not felt the other's presence before, had been too occupied with his own thoughts. A careless thing to do, Armand thought while trying to see who the visitor was. Lestat maybe? Had he come? Armand craved to talk to him, the only being who might at least partially understand him.

But no such luck. It was Louis, cowering on the steps before the front door, two dark streaks on his pale cheeks and looking like the personification of misery. When he heard Armand's footfall he looked up to meet his eyes, trying to smile a little and failing. Sighing deeply, Armand went past him, took the key out of the pocket of his jeans and unlocked the door. Then he turned to look at the slim figure.

"Are you coming inside, or do you want to spend the night on our porch?" Wordlessly Louis got to his feet and went into the house. Every movement appeared to mean an enormous effort to him; automatically he went into the living room and obeyed when Armand motioned for him to take a seat on the couch. Armand himself sat on the armchair that faced the sofa, and after some thinking curled up there to give Louis the impression that he was at ease.

Louis did not seem to be about to talk; very well, Armand could wait. He had been looking forward to a quiet night at home, and if he had to spend it in the company of Louis there was not much he could do about it right now. But he felt strangely restless tonight, and impatient.

"So why are you here?" A direct question; Armand was hoping for a direct answer.

"Thank you for letting me inside, Armand," Louis replied politely. "I hope I don't bother you, but you were the first person I could think of to go to."

"What happened?" And where is Lestat, Armand wanted to ask, but decided to proceed slowly. Louis did not look as if he could manage two questions at a time right now.

"Lestat and I, we had an... an argument," Louis said hesitantly. He was hugging himself now, his whole body language screaming out his discomfort. Armand ignored it; he felt bad enough himself, he could not care for Louis as well.

"And you left." Armand was faintly surprised how harsh his voice sounded when he spoke these words. He cared for Louis, didn't he? Louis was his friend, had been more than only his friend for seven decades. Still Armand resented his closeness now; he wanted him to leave to be alone and in peace. He did not want to be troubled with whatever had happened between Louis and Lestat. In the back of his mind Armand felt jealousy, he envied Lestat for being allowed to fight while he was being wrapped into a net of concern and care that would not tear, no matter how much he struggled.

"I thought it would be best if we both could think about it in privacy," Louis said quietly. "And I needed to talk about it with somebody. Lestat has said that he would go to England to talk to David, and I... You were the only person I could think of who would understand."

"Understand what? That Lestat can drive you crazy at times?" The words came automatically, Armand was too absorbed in thinking that David was the one Lestat had chosen to speak about his problems. And Louis had come to him. Their choices were logical somehow; it would have been very much unlike Lestat to talk about his trouble with Armand of all. At least Louis had thought him fit enough to be bothered with such a thing, and did not shield him from all problems still.

"Yes. I wish he would let me explain, but when he is angry he won't listen anymore." Armand nodded, he knew that Lestat would rather fight than talk.

"What did you fight about at all?" It was becoming hard for Armand to suppress his curiosity. Maybe he could figure what it took to start a proper argument; he himself appeared to have forgotten how to do it. No matter what he said, Marius would never be angry. Sometimes it became plain that he had to struggle to control himself, but he never lost his temper in the presence of Armand.

"Nothing, really. We talked, and I mentioned that I wished that..." Louis broke off and looked at Armand.

"That what?" Reluctantly, Louis continued.

"That the events connected with Memnoch..." Again he stopped, looking extremely uncomfortable. Armand realized that it was because of him, that Louis was once again trying to shield him from the past.

"You can say it, Louis."

"I just said that I wished it would never have happened. That Lestat would never have gone into a coma."

"And Lestat took it badly, and things became heated after that. Is this what happened?"

Louis nodded and averted his gaze, it was obvious that he regretted having talked about it.

"Louis, you don't have to constantly watch your words in my presence," Armand said gently. "I am not hurt if you speak of what happened." He stood and went over to Louis, taking a seat next to him and touching his hand lightly. Louis' tension faded a little at the touch, and he smiled faintly.

"I hope Lestat will come back soon," he said, and gave Armand a pleading look. "Maybe he has returned already?"

Armand understood and reached out with his mind, scanning for Lestat. If he was somewhere in the city, he would be able to find him if Lestat was not shielding too tightly. Envisioning Lestat, his face, his hair, the way he moved, Armand scanned the city, soon realizing that there was no trace of Marius' Brat Prince to be found. He shook his head, and Louis sighed.

"I am sorry."

"Thank you for trying." Louis sounded not too disappointed, he probably had not expected anyway that Lestat was still here.

"You know he will return. He always returns." Even from a trip to Heaven and Hell, Armand wanted to add, then rather kept his mouth shut, figuring that it was not the best thing to say to Louis right now.

"Yes," Louis repeated. "He always returns." He gave Armand a grateful look and smiled a little. Armand returned the gesture and turned his head towards the piano when Sybelle entered the room and began playing, not noticing the two vampires on the couch.  
***

Armand lay on the couch, his head in Louis' lap. He had moved into this position some time ago, knowing all too well that the other vampire would be too polite to push him away. Louis had protested a little at first, but then he had relaxed. Now he was enjoying the feeling of combing his fingers through Armand's hair.

He did not quite know why they were doing this; Armand had just been there suddenly, and Louis had not had the heart to move away. Besides it felt comfortable to feel the weight of Armand's head on his thighs, it gave him a sense of being welcomed, of being wanted. Not in a sexual way, as far as Louis could tell; Armand had not shown the least inclination to do more than just rest. They were just being friends relaxing together, listening to Sybelle who was for once not playing the Appassionata but the Moonlight Sonata.

Louis had noticed that she would at rare occasions give up on her familiar play and choose something else, always one of Beethoven's works. Not once had he heard her play something from another composer; and Marius had confirmed this. Beethoven or nothing. Louis did not mind; though it was not really his favorite music, it was a lot better than most of the other composers.

She was halfway through the first movement, her fingers slowly moving over the keyboard to evoke the dreamy melody. Louis felt at ease; the peaceful atmosphere had helped him a lot to calm himself again after the fight with Lestat. He still did not know exactly how it had happened; one word had simply led to the other until Lestat had declared he would go to David. But Louis had been the one who had left first; silently he had slipped out the back door and wandered the streets until he had come here.

He shifted into a more comfortable position; and Armand opened his eyes a fraction to give him a questioning look.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable?" he asked, only half suppressing a small yawn. Louis had to smile, he felt happy that Armand trusted him enough to doze in his presence.

"No, my friend, not at all." He looked down at Armand's face, closer to him than he had been for a long time.

"That is not the Appassionata she is playing." Apparently Armand had not noticed the change in the music until now.

"You are right."

"She does nothing but play the piano," Armand said quietly, closing his eyes again. "Sometimes we have to take her out to hunt when she won't go on herself, no matter how great her hunger is already."

"Like Nicolas." The words escaped Louis' mouth before he was aware of them. He shot Armand a quick look, afraid that it might have unsettled him. But the older vampire just nodded.

"Like Nicki," he repeated. "Sometimes I fear that she will go the same way as he did."

"But he was full of hate for Lestat and for..." Again Louis stopped in mid-sentence as so often when he talked to Armand nowadays.

"And for me, I know. And Sybelle is full of love. In the end, the result might be the same. Nicki did not care about anything but his hate, Sybelle only lives of love and music."

"We never told Lestat that she is so absorbed in it," Louis stated, watching Armand for the slightest reaction and relieved when there was none to be seen.

"That may have been the best choice at first. But he should be told, especially in case she gets worse. It is unlikely that she will last for a century, he should be aware of that." It was amazing that Armand could sound so emotionless talking about this; Louis had noticed that since his children had been made vampires, he did not care about them anymore. Marius had wanted to give them to him for eternity, but what he had done in the end was take them from him forever.

Sybelle was in the second movement now, more passionate and lively than the first. She had the sheets of music in front of her, but did not once glance at them. The few pieces she played she knew by heart, and played them without ever making a mistake. When he had heard her play for the first time, Louis had been reminded of Claudia, but had shaken off the thought again. This was a grown woman, and not his beloved daughter.

"Does she never speak?" he asked, looking at Armand's face still.

"Hardly ever. She lives in her own world mostly. I know it hurts Marius to see her so silent."

"So he believes it his fault?" Armand shook his head, Louis could feel the movement as well as see it.

"It reminds him of Pandora, the state she was in a few years ago. That she has left now did not exactly help him."

"You don't miss her?" Louis questioned, a little surprised that Armand was willing to talk for once.

"Difficult to miss somebody you hardly know. I wish she had stayed for longer so I could get acquainted to her." Drawing his knees up, Armand straightened his shirt. "I think it is the same situation as between you and David."

Louis did not answer immediately; he liked David, though they had not talked much. Lestat had invited him to stay at their flat for a few weeks, but the fledgling had soon felt left out. Louis had been aware of this and had tried to give him the feeling of being welcome, but no amount of friendliness could hide the fact that Lestat and Louis were getting close once again and that David was standing in-between them. So he had left to travel a little, and had finally settled down in England again. Louis corresponded with him, he liked the polite yet ironic tone David used in his letters. But he could not say that he knew him.

"You are right." Louis brushed his hand over Armand's hair, feeling the soft curls beneath his fingers. Armand relaxed visibly, Louis would not have been amazed if he had started to purr like a cat under his touch. But suddenly he tensed.

At first Louis thought that he was about to move into a more comfortable position, but Armand's face at once was a mask of concentration. Louis scanned their surroundings, but could detect nothing unusual. That didn't mean much, since his mental abilities were weak, but still he would have been able to discover anything out of order.

"Armand?" he asked in a quiet voice, and then more loudly, "what is it? Is something wrong?" Armand did not seem to hear him, he was listening intently to something or somebody. Then, at a sudden, he began to tremble. Louis was completely confused now, he did not know what this meant. Tears were flowing down Armand's cheeks now, staining Louis' pants.

Sybelle had stopped playing; wearing an absent look on her face, she sat on the piano stool and stared at them. Armand was shaking now, his face buried in his hands; white fingers streaked with red hid his beautiful features. Louis drew him into a light embrace, he did not know how to comfort him, did not know what was wrong so he could say soothing words. Clutching to him desperately, Armand buried his head against Louis' chest.

"What happened? Armand, talk to me," Louis whispered, holding his friend close. Sybelle shook her head slowly, then played again. Armand just sobbed quietly, his cheeks smeared with tears now. The smell of the blood distracted Louis a little, but he pulled himself together and concentrated not on his building hunger but the problem at hand.

He had never seen Armand cry before, it had never come to his mind that the older vampire was capable of such a thing. Of course he had read of it in Lestat's books, but he had never tried to envision the scenes. To imagine Armand crying was like thinking of Lestat not talking of himself. It just didn't fit the picture Louis had of him.

Suddenly he noticed that Sybelle had again switched the piece she was playing. The melody that filled the room was neither the Appassionata nor the Moonlight Sonata. It was not even of Beethoven, but of a composer whose masterpieces had been written ten years earlier. She played Mozart, for the first time since any of the coven knew her. And not one of his cheerful sonatas or minuets, but his only unfinished work, the one his student had completed.

She played the Requiem.

"Benji," Armand whispered, his voice hoarse.  
***

It felt good to be held; Louis' arms were the one constant point in the world that was spinning around him. He struggled to stop crying, he did not like it at all that Louis was seeing this. So long ago he had learnt not to show hurt, and the lesson sat deep. Even now he could recall the sensual voice that had spoken the words. If others know that you mourn, that you hurt, they will use it against you. Hide those emotions, bury them in your soul and never think of them again.

Slowly he managed to force the tears back, but the trembling continued. Again and again he heard the frantic cry for help, and then the sharp pain that had come from his Benji. Now there was nothing, no matter how much he concentrated on scanning for the young vampire. All he found was a source of power in the city; impossible to determine who it was, the mind was much too tightly shielded to find out. This being, this thing had killed Benji; Armand knew that the boy was no longer alive. The last thoughts he had received from him had been of pain mingled with complete and utter joy, something Armand knew only too well from his victims' minds. They all thought like this just before they died.

It would shatter Marius to hear of this. Where was his maker anyway? Probably out to feed and walk the streets, Armand answered his own question. He did not look forward to having to tell this to him. Maybe Louis would do it, sweet Louis who was still holding him, not saying anything because there was nothing to say. The silence was comforting, only the sound of Sybelle playing interrupted it. Armand wanted her to be quiet, to stop the horrible noise she was making, but he did not feel strong enough to open his mouth and tell her that the tones were hurting his ears.

He tried to think coherently again, to decide what had to be done now. They should go and hide somewhere until the strange presence was gone from the city. Marius had to be found, he had to know of what had happened. Louis could call him; once again Armand was painfully reminded of the silence between maker and fledgling. It had destroyed the relationship between him and Daniel; proving the truth of the words Armand had spoken to Lestat so long ago. Daniel was roaming the earth now, Armand did not even know how to reach him. It would have been so comforting to know that his fledgling was close, to know that Daniel did not resent him for what he had done. His mind suddenly presented him with a phone number, one with a foreign dialing code. Was this Daniel's number? Memory slowly returned of a short letter his child had sent years ago; the number had been scribbled down in the lower left corner hurriedly.

Gently freeing himself of Louis' arms, Armand went over to the phone. He needed to talk to Daniel now, to confirm himself that he was alright. Hearing his voice would be enough. How long had it been since they had last seen each other, five years? Six? Armand did not know, he had not paid attention to the passing time. He had simply lived one night after the other.

His fingers were shaking when he dialed the long number; he had to start again twice because he mistyped it. Silence, then the dialing tone. Somewhere a phone was ringing now, once, twice... What if Daniel was not there? Maybe he had left this specific place years ago, or it could be a hotel number for all Armand knew. He did not care; he was simply clinging to the small hope that his fledgling might be there.

"Hello?" Armand nearly started to cry again when he heard the familiar voice. "Who is there?"

"Daniel, my Daniel..." was all Armand could manage before the first sob shook him.

"Armand? Is that you?" So wonderful to hear his voice, to know that Daniel still roamed the earth. "Armand?" Say my name again, just say anything. Just talk.

Louis was standing at his side suddenly, one hand on Armand's shoulder. With the other he took the receiver from Armand.

"Hello?"

"Louis? Daniel here." Armand could hear both sides of the conversation, Louis held the receiver a little distance from his ear. "What is going on there?"

"I wish I knew. Where are you?" Now Armand listened intently, he needed to know this more than anything in the world.

"Montreal." So his fledgling was not even that far; if Armand called his pilot now he would be able to reach the city within this night. "Why did you call?"

"Armand called, I don't know why." Louis' arm came around him, drawing him into an embrace again. The closeness was comforting, but he just could not stop crying. The relief to hear Daniel's voice again had been too great.

"Is he alright? It sounded as if he were crying." Louis nodded, not realizing at first that Daniel could not see the gesture. Then he noticed and talked again.

"He is, but I don't know why. I am trying to calm him, but nothing seems to work." He sounded worried, and Armand faintly wondered for how long he had been sobbing in his arms.

"You really don't know what happened?" Daniel was beginning to sound concerned. Not another one, Armand prayed. Don't let him become yet another nursemaid.

Daniel and Louis kept talking, Louis telling him that he had no idea why Armand had practically broken down. It surprised Armand that Daniel sounded as if he actually cared about him; the last time they had parted Daniel had left in a rage, and save for a few letters they had had no contact for years.

Armand tried to brush the tears away and took the receiver from Louis' hand again. He needed to tell Daniel that he was alright.

"Daniel?"

"Armand? What is wrong? Why are you crying?" Armand smiled a little, blinking the last tears away. He hoped that his voice did not sound as shaky to Daniel as it did to him.

"Daniel... Benji is dead." An intake of breath from both Louis and Daniel was the result. "He was... he was killed by somebody."

"Killed?" Daniel sounded even more concerned than before. "Armand, I am so sorry to hear this..." No, you are not. You did not even know him, how can you be sorry to hear of his death? But he did not say this; no need to hurt Daniel with his words.

"I don't know who did it." He thought that this was what Daniel would have asked next.

"Are you certain that you are not in danger? Where are you, in New Orleans still?"

"Yes, I am at Marius' house. Louis and Sybelle are with me." Armand paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. "I don't know if there is any danger present." Daniel was silent as well now, until Armand feared that the connection had been interrupted.

"Where is Marius? And Lestat? Certainly they can protect you."

"Lestat is on the way to England. I don't know about Marius' whereabouts." Daniel breathed in deeply; Armand could imagine his distress.

"Listen, if you want to you can come and stay with me until this is over." Armand wanted to say yes, wanted to take up the offer immediately. But he hesitated, he could not know that Daniel was not only saying this because he felt he had to. It was necessary for Armand to know that he was invited freely, not out of hospitality or guilt.

A sudden crash, followed by Sybelle's scream, made him turn around. The female vampire was staring through the door into Marius' study, an expression of pure horror on her face. Armand dropped the receiver and rushed at her side; taking her hand he looked in the same direction, paralyzed when he saw what had happened.

The window had been broken, shards covered the floor and Marius' desk. And in the middle of the room stood a tall, red-haired vampire, her hair ruffled, her clothes in disorder as if she had been flying for a long time.

"Maharet?" Armand asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

She did not answer, only looked at him and Sybelle, her pretty features a complete blank. Armand heard a footfall; Louis had followed him and was now standing at his side, staring at Maharet in surprise. She still had not moved, was just standing there, not moving a muscle. Only her eyes seemed alive, they took in the scene. Then, suddenly, Sybelle screamed again, this time out of sheer pain. Armand turned to face her, not knowing what was wrong. He nearly backed away when he saw what was happening to her, but managed to get a hold on himself. Sybelle was burning, first only her hands, then her whole body. Within seconds she was nothing but a living, moving, screaming torch; she stumbled through the room, setting the curtains afire. Armand could feel the heat radiating from her; he tried to catch her in his arms to extinguish the flames, but he could not move. An invisible power was holding him back; shocked he realized that it was Maharet who was doing this. He was feeling strangely tired, was this Maharet's doing as well? His knees gave way and he sank to the floor, helplessly watching his Sybelle burn until his eyes mercifully closed and he lost consciousness.  
***

Brushing tiny icicles off his coat, Lestat stood at the front door of David's London apartment and straightened his clothes before he entered, unlocking the door with his mind. Once inside, he went looking for his fledgling, but it seemed he had gone out. Sighing, Lestat settled in an armchair, legs over one armrest, his back propped up against the other. He had so hoped that David would be home so they could talk; Lestat was in severe need of being pampered a little.

How could Louis just have left him like that? They had only had a small argument, and suddenly the black-haired vampire had got up and left their flat, murmuring something about Lestat and himself needing time to think. He had just walked through the door without even looking back. So heartless, Louis... just leave me alone when you want to think. You don't have to remember that I might not want to be alone.

In the back of his mind Lestat knew that the fight had been his fault as well, but he was not ready to admit this just yet. It had been uncalled for Louis to bring up the story about the Devil again now that Lestat was beginning to forget about it.

Sure, they had all suffered through this, but Lestat had gone through a lot more than any of the others, with the possible exception of Armand. Still the imp had not been chained up in a basement by Maharet and constantly been threatened to remain there until Judgement Day if he did not renounce his story. Oh, he owed her one for this; how could she just imprison him there! Back then he had not really cared about it, but whenever he thought about this now, he felt anger course through him in waves. She had not had the right to do this, sister of the Queen or not.

David would understand his anger; David, who had stayed with him through that time and written Lestat's last book for him when he himself could not do it thanks to the chains. Lestat did not doubt that he could have broken free, but something in his mind had prevented him from doing it. Had Maharet been fuddling with his thoughts to keep him quiet? One night he would ask her, and if only half of what he suspected to have taken place was true, she would be facing a difficult time.

Flicking on the stereo with his mind, Lestat listened to the first seconds of the CD inside the player before he switched it off again. Maybe David looked like a young man now, but his taste regarding music was as old as his mind. Instead he tried the TV, reclining in his chair while he flipped through the channels in search of something interesting.

Lestat could not deny that he missed Louis terribly already. But he could not go back just now, that would be like admitting that he had been wrong and Louis had been right. No, he would stay here for a few nights, and then go looking for his beloved tormentor again to celebrate a sweet reunion. He imagined Louis' lips curling in that certain small smile, his eyes bright with happiness to see him return only to turn dark with passion and lust as the night progressed... Lestat could practically taste Louis' blood in his mouth, his mind presenting him with vivid memories of the way Louis moved, his scent, how he sounded when Lestat bit that particular spot just above the collarbone...

The phone ripped him out of his thoughts. It rang once, twice, three times, then the answering machine kicked in. David's voice speaking, saying that he was not at home and asking the caller to leave a message after the beep. How inventive. That annoying buzz came, and then a voice Lestat knew. Armand's stupid fledgling.

"David, Daniel here." He sounded strangely frantic, what had happened, had he had yet another fight with his maker? No, that could not be; Lestat remembered that they had parted years ago. The Dark Gift brings no love, only silence. Wasn't that what Armand had said so long ago? Well, it seemed he had been right, at least regarding himself.

What did that little twerp want that he called David of all people? As far as Lestat was informed, they did not even know each other, or had he missed something here? Unlikely, his fledgling and Armand's were too different to be friends. David was a civilized Englishman after all, while Daniel had been crazy enough to fall in love with Armand of all people.

"I just talked to Louis and Armand on the phone, they said Benjamin has been killed by somebody. The line was severed shortly afterwards... David, do you know anything of this? I'm worried about them, I tried to call again but only get a message that their number is not available right now."

In a flash Lestat was at the phone and picked up the receiver.

"Did you try calling Louis' cell phone?" Not that he ever used it, but at least Lestat had managed to persuade him to take it with him and leave it switched on.

"David?"

"No, Lestat." He heard Daniel clear his throat, it was obvious that the fledgling had not expected to talk to him. "What is this about Benji being dead? And what about Louis?"

"Yell a little louder and I won't need the phone to hear you." Lestat hadn't noticed that he had practically screamed the last words. "I don't know what went on there, only that Armand was crying, and that he told me that Benjamin's been done away with. Then there was a crash, someone screaming, and the connection was broken. Lestat, something went wrong there!"

"I have realized that by now, thank you. See you in New Orleans." Lestat put the receiver down again, he had no time to lose chatting politely with Daniel. What if Louis had been hurt? Lestat would never be able to forgive himself if his precious one had suffered only because he had left in a rash. And what about Armand? Certainly he was too tough to be swept off his feet by something like this. He simply had to be.

Leaving the flat and not bothering to lock the door, Lestat took to the air and headed west.  
***

Treason: Chapter 6 - Aftermath

"Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,  
the death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,  
balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,  
chief nourisher in life's feast."  
\- William Shakespeare, Macbeth  
***

They had come too late; Maharet had been faster. Marius' house was on fire, flames were everywhere. Santino felt the heat clearly, even though they were still a few hundred meters away from its source. He wished they had been faster; but he knew that neither he nor Pandora matched Maharet's strength. Still he had dared to hope.

Wearily he stared at the blazing fire; his whole body ached from the flight, from struggling to keep Pandora's pace as they had crossed the Atlantic as fast as possible. He felt drained, knew that he should feed and rest as soon as possible. There was no time for this now, first they had to see if there were any others still alive.

A look at Pandora told him that she was already scanning for survivors. A minute passed in silence, then she turned to look at him, her eyes still slightly unfocused, and shook her head.

"I can't feel anybody..." Her voice was quiet, she was tired too. But she tried again.

Santino reached out himself as well, searched every spot of the burning house for the familiar feeling of an immortal mind. Room for room he checked, hoping, praying to find somebody and at the same time thinking that maybe they had got out, that they were hiding somewhere and would be found tomorrow night.

Suddenly Pandora touched his arm, and directed his mind towards something she had found. His mental feelers brushed over a smooth blank, tried to grasp the meaning of this, struggling to understand what this meant. Then he knew, recognized what he had touched there. Pandora had felt it as well, and was already rushing towards the house. Santino could do nothing but wait here for her, knowing that he could not take the heat and the fire without being harmed quickly. He had to stay outside, or Pandora would have to take care of him as well as of that unconscious one she was trying to rescue now.

He continued to scan the house, there was nothing else he could do right now. Maybe there was somebody else inside, trapped in the flames or blacked out like the one they had found. Santino was well aware that the chance that he would find anybody in his state of exhaustion was small, but he could not give up yet. Dimly he began to worry about Pandora, but then he felt her again, this time inside the burning building. He could feel her choke on the smoke, and cling to his mind as a means of orientation.

The fire brigade had arrived, they were trying to extinguish the flames, but without a lot of success. The house had been old, the wood used for the floors and ceilings was dry as cinder. Not much could be done but preventing the fire from spreading on the neighboring buildings. A crowd was already forming, curious mortals watching with delighted horror as the roof began to collapse.

A figure emerged through a window, and Santino breathed with relief. Her clothes were scorched, her face smeared with soot, but she seemed to be unhurt. She was carrying a small figure in her arms, he could not see who it was until she came closer. Then he recognized the singed auburn hair; he knew he should be happy that they had managed to at least rescue Armand, but he felt numb. There had certainly been others; Marius' newborn fledglings must have been in the house as well. They could not have had a chance against the fire; Maharet must have got them. If Pandora and he had only been a little faster...

Stop. Don't make yourself feel guilty now. You have done everything possible, and what happened is not your fault. He knew that he had to think, that they needed to find a safe hiding place. For now it would be enough to get away from the fire and the mortal watchers, and find some minutes of rest. Pandora coughed, she was only a few steps away, and he embraced her, trying to show her how worried he had been about her. Armand was between them, Santino could feel the hot skin, did not have to look down to know that it was reddened and covered with tiny blisters. Looking at Pandora, he saw in her eyes the same weariness that he felt.

All he wanted was to get away from here; Pandora nodded in agreement, and they took to the air quickly, too fast for mortal eyes to see. They only flew a short distance and descended in a small park after not even a minute of flight. Pandora slumped down on a wooden bench, still holding Armand to herself. He had been lucky, Santino could only see a few superficial burns and nothing more. They would heal quickly, especially when he fed. Pandora must have had the same thought, she rolled up her sleeve and placed her wrist at Armand's mouth. There was no reaction until she made a small wound herself. The blood on his lips appeared to wake Armand to some level; he swallowed steadily, one sip at a time.

Santino turned away politely; he silently told Pandora that he would go looking for victims so they could feed and regain their strength. The night was not over yet, they had to be in as good a condition as possible. He was too tired to speak out loud, the short flight had exhausted him more than he thought it would. Vampires of his age simply were not supposed to circle half of the globe in less than a night, he thought as he left in search of prey.

It was beginning to rain, something he did not appreciate at all. He was still cold from the flight, and did not feel comfortable in soaked clothes right now. They would have to leave the city tonight, which would mean flying in wet garments; not the best thing to do, the air was chilly enough up there.

A group of drunk teenage boys crossed his way, and he was too hungry and tired to let them pass. Concentrating on keeping them quiet and oblivious to what was happening to them, he quickly took one, draining him without caring about the images and visions that danced through the blood. It warmed him, pushed the cold out of his limbs, made him feel a lot better. After erasing the puncture wounds in the neck with a drop of his blood, he just let the body fall to the floor. No time to hide it right now, and they would be gone from the city anyway. Certainly the police had better things to do than investigate this case.

He brought the remaining three back to the park where he had left Pandora and Armand. She was not feeding him any longer, he just rested in her arms, his head against her chest. Pandora looked gaunt, she had given him a lot; his skin was healing rapidly now, only a few red spots remained where he had been burnt more intensely than in the other places.

Handing Armand to Santino, she caught one of the teenagers in her arms; hungrily she drained him while the other two just stood there, mesmerized. Santino could see the color change in the boy's face. Armand stirred in his arms, licked his lips as if he were trying to find a lingering taste of blood. Slashing his own throat, Santino let him drink from him; too tired to really acknowledge the pleasure this brought. It simply had to be done, that was all he thought of.

Pandora had taken the second young man and was bringing the remaining one to Santino, smiling at him wearily.

"You should take him, you need the blood more than I do," she said quietly. "We may have to feed Armand again, then we need to be strong."

"Could you find any trace of the others?" Santino asked, holding Armand still, who had by now stopped drinking and had fallen asleep. He lay him down on the bench and quickly fed from the last youth.

Cradling Armand's head in her lap, Pandora sat down again. She seemed to be lost in thought, twirling a strand of his hair between her slim white fingers. The fire had left its marks, her eyebrows were singed, her hands were reddened. But she would heal, no permanent harm had been done.

"If there was anybody else in the house, he is dead. The heat was too much for a fledgling. Armand would not have lasted much longer, and you know that he is very strong for his age."

Santino nodded. "Then we can only hope that they escaped." He did not say that he had not felt a single vampire in the city other than themselves. It meant that Maharet probably was not here any longer, but neither were the fledglings. Santino assumed that he should better get used to the idea that they were dead.

"We have to leave," Pandora said. "Maharet will surely come back to see if she has succeeded, and she certainly won't like to see that Armand escaped."

"There are not many places where we can hide," Santino replied, sitting down as well. "You know yourself how strong Maharet is, she can find us easily, and in a great distance."

"Then we have to go to a place where she won't be looking for us." Closing her eyes, Pandora massaged her temples. "Any suggestions?" She looked tired, the long night had worn her out. Santino had not often seen her so exhausted; the last time had been fifteen years ago, when they had freed Marius from the ice together. He could still remember the way the house had looked, the ruined living room...

"I know where we can go." Pandora gave him what qualified as a curious look under these circumstances. "Marius' compound in the north."

"The Mother destroyed it, don't you remember?"

"Not everything, only the main rooms that were built directly over the Shrine. Parts of the house were still whole."

"We would be safe there," Pandora said slowly. "Maharet will not think that anybody could be hiding there." She gave Santino a measuring look. "Will you manage to fly there?"

"Do I have a choice?" This time she smiled a little.

"Not really." She picked up Armand again, cradled him in her arms like a child. "Come, Santo. We don't have time to lose."  
***

The snow glittered in the moonlight; beautiful white, a shroud for nature. Only in summer did it melt, transform the frozen ground into mud and dirt. Hardly any traces of animals could be seen; the occasional trails of caribous and wolves were the only signs of life in this icy wasteland. The air was cold, so cold that it hurt. The wind didn't make it any better; it whirled up tiny fragments of ice and snow. Pandora could feel the tiny pinpricks on the skin of her face; she knew that she was bleeding, no matter how fast the wounds healed, new ones were added almost immediately. They could have flown higher to be out of reach of the biting wind, but it would have meant risking to miss the compound they were looking for.

Armand was shivering in her arms, he felt the cold much more intensely than she did. During a short break in a town somewhere in Canada they had supplied themselves with jackets and warm clothes, but the cold could not be kept out completely. Pandora hoped that they would reach their destination soon, she needed to rest, and Santino as well. They had been awake for more than twenty hours straight now, and the two long flights, first across the Atlantic and now to the far north of the American continent were taking their toll.

She did not feel sorry for Sybelle and Benji, though it was practically evident that they were dead. As soon as she was rested again she might feel something, but she had seen so many fledglings die over the centuries. That they were Marius' children gave them a somewhat special status, but still they were only two of countless faces Pandora had seen in her life, nothing more.

Turning her head, she glanced over to Santino, who was flying at her side. He looked as if he were not really conscious anymore of where they were going; he was probably just concentrating on moving, past all pain and exhaustion. It would take some time for him to recover from this, he had only been able to fly since a few years, the distances they had covered in this long night were too much. But they had nearly reached their destination, it could not be far now.

The memories of the first time she had traveled here constantly came to mind; back then she had not cared for much, what had driven her to do it had been the certain knowledge that Marius was there, and that it might be the last chance to see him. The few chosen ones allowed to stay alive; it had been bitter for Pandora to learn that so many of her acquaintances were dead, vampires both older and stronger than herself. She had not expected them to die; those who had lived through their first millennium were considered able to cope with eternity. Nobody had thought that the Mother herself would weed out her own children.

Down below her she spotted a rectangular shadow; they had reached the old refuge finally. Pandora touched Santino's mind, directed his attention towards the building. She could feel relief coming from him, he would not have been able to fly much further. Now it remained to be seen if they could stay here, or if the destruction had been more thorough than they had thought.

They landed in the middle of the ruins; snow had mercifully covered most of the devastation. The pit where Marius had been trapped was still visible; in time it would fill with snow and ice. Images of him trapped down there shot through Pandora's mind; the white snow stained with his blood, the shock to see that the Mother had punished her faithful caretaker. She pushed those thoughts back, it was necessary to concentrate on what happened now, not on what had taken place in the past.

Santino had been right, parts of the building were still intact while those directly around the pit were only ruins. Pandora entered what had once been a hallway, noticing with some inner satisfaction that most of the doors were closed. The rooms might be in a quite good condition if the wind and snow had not been able to get inside. The further she went inside, the fewer of the destruction was visible. No more ice on the floor, and most drawings were still hanging on the wall instead of lying on the floor. If she did not look back she could pretend that the house was still whole.

She passed a small metal box in the wall, the iron cover torn away. Cables and switches inside, along with tiny lamps. The fuses, it seemed. Moving a few switches, she sighed with relief as the lights suddenly went on.

Marius must have had several electricity generators and circuits in the house so it did not matter if one or two of them were destroyed. If the lights were on, it meant that the heating would probably work as well.

She opened a door at random; the room behind it looked like a study of sorts. A desk covered with neat stacks of paper, and even an old-fashioned computer was there.

Dust covered everything, but that was the only sign that nobody had been here for more than a decade. Behind the next door was a small library. Pandora remembered that there had been numerous books scattered in the snow when they had come to rescue Marius. There had probably been more than one room serving this purpose, she thought.

Finally she discovered a bedroom; it looked rather impersonal, presumably it had not been Marius' but a guest room. Faintly she wondered whom he would have allowed to stay here; had he expected her to join him once again? Or had there been others who would have been welcomed? Those questions were not important now, all that mattered was that there was a bed. She entered the room and put Armand down on the bed; then she went to turn on the heating. The air was nearly as cold here as outside, but that had to be expected after fifteen years. In a closet she found some woolen blankets and was just taking them out when Santino entered the room.

::I've looked through the house. This seems to be the only bedroom where the windows are not broken:: he informed her, too tired to talk aloud.

"We'll stay here together then," she said, her voice breaking the silence. "Have you turned on the heating in the other rooms?"

Santino nodded wearily. ::Yes, and the water heater. If it still works, we should have hot water next night.:: Pandora imagined a bathtub full of steaming water; the thought alone warmed her limbs.

"There is nothing else we can do." She went over to the bed and tucked Armand under the covers. He blinked and looked around, his face reflecting his confusion. Pandora brushed her hand over his forehead, smiling at him as she began to undress him. It would be better if they snuggled up together and shared body warmth.

After securing the room for the day, Pandora and Santino stripped as well and slipped into bed, cradling Armand between them as they lay in each other's arms. The last thought Pandora had before she fell asleep was that no matter what happened in the world around them, they were safe here.  
***

The last flames had been extinguished an hour ago, firefighters were looking for embers that could ignite what remained of the house. Not that there was much left, but the danger of having another fire was too great. The rain had helped somewhat to cool the structure; the street was dark from the water and the chemicals that had been used to fight the flames.

In what had been pronounced a safe distance Marius sat on the curb, his head buried in his hands. He had returned from an exhibition in Baton Rogue half an hour ago only to find his house destroyed, and no trace of his fledglings to be found. Despite the policemen that guarded the ruin he had stormed inside, calling frantically for Sybelle, for Benji. And for Armand. It was impossible, Marius could not have lost him to the flames again. He had found nobody, his only hope was that they were hiding somewhere and would return to him until dawn.

"Seems like a gas pipe blew up," an officer said and approached him. "Sir, are you the owner?" Marius nodded, he did not trust his voice to be even. Wiping away the traces of blood tears from his cheeks, he looked up to meet the other man's gaze. A friendly face, maybe forty, forty-five years old. Certainly he had children... Marius tried to pull himself together, to think coherent. He had to deal with the mortals, then he would be free to grieve.

The officer gave him an understanding nod and knelt down in front of him. Pulling out a notebook and pen, he looked at Marius.

"I know that it is not the best of times, but I have to ask those questions." Swallowing hard, Marius nodded again.

"Do go on then."

"Were there any other persons in the house?" Images of his fledglings immediately came to Marius' mind; Benji running through the house, Sybelle playing the piano - he could even hear the Appassionata's second movement. Armand sitting gloomily in an armchair. What had happened to them? Were they alive, were they dead? The insecurity was almost worse than knowing the facts.

Yet another police car arrived; two men and a woman got out, determined looks on their faces. To them this was nothing but an average incident; houses burned every day, didn't they? The officers could not care about the lives that were connected to the buildings, they had to remain bjective, emotionless.

"Sir?" the man in front of him asked in a concerned voice. "Can I help you in any way? Do you maybe want to see the ambulance men?"

"Excuse me?" another voice said, this one definitely not human but with the added timbre of a vampire. Somebody faintly familiar, this one.

"Yes, mister?" the officer said, turning his attention from Marius to the new arrival.

"Daniel Molloy. I am his nephew, I will answer those questions."

Bless you, Daniel, but how did you get here?

::My plane landed ten minutes ago. Don't worry, Marius. I will take care of the formalities.::

Marius was a little surprised that the fledgling had read his thoughts that easily, then he remembered that this was Armand's child after all. It had to be expected that he was strong.

"Very well, Mister Molloy. Do you live here?" The officer's tone had changed from understanding to matter-of-fact by now.

"Yes. I only returned tonight from a business journey."

"Can you tell me how many persons lived in the house?"

"Just my uncle and I. A friend of us used to stay here from time to time, but she lives in London now." For the first time Marius looked up to see the mop of ash blond hair, the handsome face. Daniel, dressed in jeans and shirt as usual, this time a much more determined expression on his features than ever before when Marius had seen him.

"That would explain the clothes we have found. Are there any dangerous substances stored somewhere in the house?"

"I don't know of any, apart from the varnish my uncle uses for his paintings."

Marius' mind began to drift; he no longer could make out the voices of Daniel and the officer. He knew that they were talking, but he did not care what was said. Images of his fledglings came to his mind; what if he had lost them? They had been the only children of him that were still alive, save for Pandora, and he did not know where she was living at the moment. Roaming the world with Santino, indeed. He wished she were here now to hold him, to tell him that it would be alright again. Her voice was what he craved, he would have happily fought with her if it meant to be together.

The more he thought about it, the more he clung to the belief that his children were still alive. Benji had certainly left once again for one of his adventures, and Armand had taken Sybelle out to the cinema. They had not been in the house when it burned down. And even if they had, they would have been able to get out in time. They just had to be alive. It could not be different.

Hands on his upper arms, pulling him to his feet. An arm slipping around his shoulders as if to steady him. Marius would have laughed at the gesture in a normal situation, but now he was thankful for the support. He smelled Daniel's scent, of coffee and air condition, of plane food and moistened tissue. The fledgling had come by plane, Marius remembered being told this. Another pair of hands touching him, they were brushed away.

"Thank you, Miss, but I can manage." He was being led away, away from the house, the lingering smell of ashes, the cameras of the photographers. A car door opened and he got inside, only partly conscious of doing it. Somebody fastened his seatbelt, murmuring something of the police not needing to examine them more closely, then started the car. They drove off, Marius did not care where they were going as long as they went away from what remained of the house.

Not much later they checked in at a hotel; Daniel took care of the formalities while Marius was just standing there, staring into space. He knew he had to begin to act, had to continue his life no matter what had just happened. Certainly his fledglings were alive, all he had to do was wait for them. It did good to be absent, to distance himself from all this. He felt no pain, no fear, no despair anymore. Beyond caring, that's what he was.

Then they were standing in their suite after a short elevator ride; Daniel had left some messages at the reception, probably that they were not to be disturbed during the day. Marius wondered how he could take this all so calmly, as if nothing had happened. It amazed him that Daniel had answered the questions of the police officers so patiently, without trying to mesmerize them. Maybe concentrating on one task at a time was his way to deal with the situation.

"Are you alright?" the young vampire asked, moving to open the balcony doors. Marius thought about it; he was not hurt, was he? That probably meant that he was alright. Still he did not feel so, not at all. "Lestat will probably arrive here soon."

That calm voice was unnerving Marius, how could Daniel speak in such an even tone when it was possible that his maker and once lover was dead? How distant had he and Armand become that there was no caring anymore?

"Why are you here?" Marius finally managed to say. Daniel sat down on the bed while he took a chair, not taking his eyes off the fledgling.

"Armand called me." Patiently listening to Daniel's story, a new fear was added to Marius' thoughts. Louis had been there as well, what had happened to him? He seriously hoped that the black-haired vampire was alright, he liked him, loved him in a way. After all they were one coven, they cared for each other, didn't they?

Daniel had stopped talking, he was avoiding Marius' gaze, looking extremely uncomfortable. There was something else, and it was nothing good.

"What else?" Marius asked, shielding himself for what might come now.

Sighing, Daniel met his eyes. "Benji is dead."

At first Marius only heard the words, only after seconds he understood their meaning. Clutching to the armrests of the chair, he fought to remain at least outwardly calm.

"But... how?"

"All I know is that he was killed by somebody." Daniel described how Armand had sounded when he had said this, repeated the exact words. Frantically Marius searched Daniel's words for an indication that this was a misunderstanding, that there had been a mistake, that Armand had been wrong. But finally he had to admit it to himself that his youngest fledgling had died.

It did not hurt nearly as much to think of him as dead than not knowing what had happened. This was reality, it could not be changed anymore. Marius wondered what had happened to the others, had they been murdered as well? And who had done this? He would not rest until he had found the answers to those questions, no matter what the cost.  
***

As soon as he could see the lights of New Orleans glittering below him, Lestat scanned for other vampires. He really was not up to go looking for them patiently right now as it was considered polite. This was an exceptional situation, calling for exceptional methods. Quickly he had located two of the others; they were in the same place, probably the same room.

Lestat did not bother to make sure nobody saw him when he landed in front of the small yet elegant hotel, he had no time to lose. Whoever was up there, they certainly knew of the fate of Louis and the others. Making his way through the hallways and up the stairs quickly, Lestat did not knock but simply unlocked the door with his mind and rushed into the room.

He found Marius and Daniel, one sitting on a chair, the other on the bed. They both rose when he came in, Marius looking the perfect picture of misery. For a moment Lestat fought the urge to embrace him, then gave up and took the older vampire in his arms. It felt so good to be held by Marius, to know that he was close. Nothing could possibly go wrong when Marius was there, his presence was a guarantee that everything would be alright, wasn't it? He always knew the answers and solutions.

Daniel cleared his throat politely, Lestat saw that the fledgling was somewhat nervous. He kept curling and uncurling his fingers into fists as if to release some tension through the simple movements. Letting go of Marius, Lestat took a chair and placed it near Marius' seat in the middle of the room. He simply needed to feel the closeness of him. The others sat down as well, returning to their former positions. An uncomfortable silence arose. What did they know that they didn't want to talk about it? Lestat became impatient after a few seconds, he had not come here in such a hurry to sit in a hotel room with Marius and Daniel saying nothing.

"What has happened?" he finally asked, but did not receive an answer at first. "Daniel, you told me before, what else do you know by now?" Lestat could see that Marius was unsettled, and he did not want to press him for information when there was also Armand's fledgling to be asked.

"Not much more than I already told you. Marius' home burned down earlier this night," Daniel shot the Roman vampire a cautious glance as if to see if his words made him uncomfortable. "When I arrived, there were no traces of other vampires. We don't know what happened to them, to Armand, Louis and Sybelle."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Don't you understand? We have no idea where they are, what happened to them and whether they are still alive or not. Is this clear enough for you?"

"Have you scanned for them?" Maybe a foolish question since it was an obvious thing to do, but Lestat had to ask nevertheless.

"Of course. Not a glimpse of other immortal minds but ours." Daniel paused, then continued with a tint of hope in his voice. "Neither of us could look for Armand, though."

Lestat nodded and sent out his mental feelers looking for the auburn-haired vampire, combing through the masses of minds in the city, sorting through them. Nothing; he looked further, in the surrounding towns, still not able to detect anything. Maybe he had fled to the south, to the ocean? With his powers Lestat would be able to find him, no matter how far he was away, but only if Armand was not shielding himself. The imp's mental skills must not be underestimated. Again he could not discover anything, neither Armand nor another vampire.

Pausing for a moment, Lestat took a deep breath before he searched the rest of the continent for Armand; his deed was exhausting, and he knew he could not keep this up much longer. He tried to think of the places where Armand might go, checked them more thoroughly while only quickly sweeping over areas he could not bring into any relation with him. Once or twice he had the feeling of touching another's mind, but those glimpses were gone nearly immediately, reflections of psychic mortals. Finally he gave up, shaking his head tiredly.

"Nothing."

"He could be shielding," Daniel said, clearly expecting a confirmation from Lestat.

"Could be. I can't find him if he does. Are you sure that there was no sign of Louis? Marius, have you scanned for him too? Daniel maybe overlooked him, he has no practice when it comes to such things." The young vampire looked as if he were about to protest, then decided against it.

"I have not looked for him." Marius sounded spent, Lestat began to wonder how deeply this had affected his friend and mentor. He looked older than usual, the fine lines on his face had deepened. "And I doubt that I can find him right now."

"Can you try?" Lestat asked, giving Marius a pleading look.

"Give him some peace, Lestat," Daniel said in a sharp voice. Lestat felt offended by the tone.

"I can't hear Louis, and you can't find him thanks to your missing strength and skill. Marius is the only one who can look for him."

"For once, Lestat de Lioncourt, try to think of others and not only of yourself. Do you think Marius would not look for him if he could? Don't be so selfish!"

"Of course, you can't understand that somebody is worried about his lover. You never cared about yours."

"I am worried for Armand, or I wouldn't be here."

"So kind of you to come." Lestat was struggling for control by now, the only thing that kept him from harming Daniel was the thought that he would have to explain it to Louis later. "But have you been of any help so far?"

"Have you?" Daniel snapped. "If you did, I can't remember it."

"I scanned for Armand only a minute ago."

"And you didn't find him. Need I comment on your missing skills?"

"You are playing with fire, young one. Better stop before you are burnt."

"Is this meant to be a threat?"

"Very well observed."

"Stop it." Both Lestat and Daniel gave Marius surprised looks. "Both of you, end this now. We won't achieve anything if you are working against each other." He stood and went over to the balcony door; staring out over the city.

"Can you look for Louis?"

"Lestat!"

"What?"

"Silence!" Marius shouted, clearly beginning to lose his patience with them. "I will look for him, but only if you do me a favor and stop this senseless quarrel. You are behaving like children."

Lestat had already opened his mouth, but then swallowed the sarcastic reply and instead went to  
stand at Marius' side. He wrapped an arm around the older vampire's waist and drew him into a light embrace.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, so quietly that only Marius could hear it. "I am worried." He felt a hand gently brush over his hair, then Marius' grip around him tightened a little.

"We are all worried."

Leaning against Marius, Lestat felt comfort for the first time this night. He could let go of some of the tension, could calm himself a little. Smiling, he tried to think positive, that Louis would be found, that Daniel had simply overlooked himself. It would have been embarrassing anyway if Louis could not shield himself from a fledgling like Daniel. Certainly he was alright and waiting for Lestat to come. It only was a matter of seconds until Marius discovered Louis, then Lestat would go and pick him up, apologize for the fight. Louis would forgive him as always, they  
would return home and spend the rest of the night talking, or preferably with more pleasurable things.

"I have something..." Marius' voice intruded in Lestat's thoughts, which he happily accepted this  
time.

"What? Is it Louis?"

"I cannot say it for sure, but it is not a mortal mind."

"Then we will have to go and look," Daniel stated. Lestat gave him a surprised look. "I want Louis to be safe too."  
***

Treason: Chapter 7 - Sub Terram

"It's okay to let yourself go, just as long as you can find your way back."  
\- Mick Jagger  
***

The earth was damp, did not crumble but turned into mud as fingers were slowly moved. Hadn't it been dry before, and hot? Now it was cold, and wet, and full of substances stinking of laboratories. No longer was it comforting; the poison fluids hurt the sensitive skin. Escape them, that was important, but how? Upwards there would only be more of them, the water was seeping down to reach him. Downwards there would be nothing but clear earth, not polluted with chemicals. But going there would make it harder to return to the world above; the question remained if he wanted to be part of it again when he felt so secure and comforted down here.

It had been his savior, this earth; when the flames had hurt him, burnt his skin, it had opened its cool arms to him to welcome his body. Covering him, the earth had swallowed him, had wrapped him into protection. Deep inside he knew that this was where he belonged, where he should have gone so long ago; this embrace was what he had unconsciously craved for so long. Peace he found here, and consolation; he did not have to think of anything, could forget where he was, what he was, who he was. Nothing mattered. There was only the feeling of comfort. Sleep would come, a warm, soft blackness to sink into; dreams were going to dance through his mind, fantastic sculptures of thoughts unheard of. Like Sleeping Beauty he would lie, no prince would come to fight his way through the wild roses. The roses would protect him, they would not allow it that somebody found him, lest disturb his sleep. Beautiful flowers of the deepest red, crimson petals that hid the thorns. Smell would surround him, the scent of those ethereal florets.

Something moved over his face; something cool and strangely soft. He could feel its movements, its body wriggling when it touched his skin. One of the creatures he shared the earth with, a friend, a brother. They would keep him company here, would make sure that he was never alone. Silent companions in his voluntary solitude.

The dreams were coming; voices began to fill his head, talking of love and hate, hope and despair, beauty and destruction. They were cruel, too intense; he tried to slowly shake his head to make them go away, but they were too strong already. He had waited for too long, the voices had found him, they would never let him go. What if he thought himself invisible, would they still be able to find him? A noise from above told him that the effort would be futile, they had discovered his hiding place.

Around him the earth seemed to move at a sudden, a weight was lifted from his head. Cool night air brushed over his forehead, carrying the smell of fire and ashes. He did not want to go back there, desperately he tried to bury himself again, to go down into the ground. But hands on his arms prevented this, he was yanked upwards. The earth tried to hold him back, wrapped itself around his legs, but it was not strong enough; he was ripped from its grip and lifted into the air.

Somebody was touching his face, much like the worm had done before. A gentle, cool touch; he felt imself being held tightly, so close that it began to hurt a little. Hands stroking his hair, telling him that everything was alright, that there was nothing to be afraid of. He wanted to trust those hands, they were familiar, he knew their touch. Knew their name.

"Lestat," he whispered, struggling to open his eyes. He was kissed softly, then a voice told him what he needed to hear, the confirmation that he had not lost himself.

"Louis..." Arms came around him, he was carried away. Other voices could be heard, speaking of rest and safety and sunrise. The air suddenly ruffled his hair, and he clung to his carrier to protect his face from the stinging wind.

He must have fallen asleep, the next thing he was aware of was being laid onto a soft surface, a wet cloth dabbing on his skin, washing the dirt and the mud away.

"Sleep, beloved," somebody whispered. And sleep he did.  
***

Treason: Chapter 8 - Aurora Borealis

"Yes there are two paths you can go by,  
but in the long run,  
there's still time to change the road you're on."  
\- Led Zeppelin, Stairway To Heaven  
***

The first thing Armand noticed when he woke was that he was not alone. His eyes snapped open, he scanned the room frantically only to find that no other than Santino was lying next to him under the covers, fast asleep. Armand scrambled out of the bed in an instant, still not completely awake but definitely not asleep. Standing in the middle of the room and staring at the sleeping figure, he tried to collect his thoughts, think about how he had got here. Memory slowly kicked in, scattered fragments at first that soon formed a picture. Still he did not understand completely, there were too many missing pieces. Where he was, how much time had passed since Maharet had stood in front of him, killing Sybelle. He also wondered why he had been sharing a bed with Santino, and had there not been somebody else? The face he could not quite recall, he had been so tired last night.

"I see you are awake," a voice said behind him. Armand spun around, not sure if he should be wary or relieved. Pandora was standing in the doorframe, her body wrapped into a towel a little too small to serve the purpose properly, leaving most of her thighs and breasts bare. Her hair was flowing freely down her back; it had an uncombed look that made Armand wonder how she had managed to get so many snarls and knots into it. She would probably rather use scissors than a brush to solve the problem.

"Yes, I..." Armand stopped, not knowing what to say. He still felt tired, and his mind was not working properly at the moment. He recalled that as a mortal he had felt like this whenever he had been feverish; strangely detached and not completely aware of his surroundings.

"You will be alright soon, all you need to do is rest and feed plenty." Pandora moved past him and picked up some clothes from the floor, then tossed her towel onto a chair, apparently not caring that Armand was watching. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really," he answered, a little confused, a question forming in his mind. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere in the north of Canada, in one of Marius' old refuges. Or what is left of it." Slipping into her jeans, she reached for a crumpled sweater. "By the way, in case you don't want to stay naked, your clothes are over there," she said, pointing at some garments hanging over the backrest of a chair. Armand blushed a little, he had not noticed that he was not wearing anything. It began to bother him that he had slept next to Santino like this.

"Thank you..." He gave Pandora a weak smile, which she returned.

"Two doors to the right there is a bathroom, we've got plenty of hot water if you want to take a shower. It does wonders, believe me." Armand nodded gratefully, picked up his clothes and left the room. It was not so much the shower that he wanted but the chance to be alone a little. Too much had happened, he needed to think about it.

The bathroom was not what Armand had expected; he had imagined it to be small, like those of hotels were. What he found was an ample room tiled in a soft yellow that seemed to radiate warmth. The floor under his feet was heated, a wonderful feeling. Quickly Armand closed the door, the air in the room was still hot and humid from Pandora's bath and he wanted to keep it this way. He felt cold to the marrow of his bones, his body was telling him that he had spent too much time in too chilly an environment. Dimly he remembered being carried by Pandora; she must have flown him here. No wonder that he felt as if he had frozen to death.

He placed his clothes on a shelf, next to a stack of towels, and after a moment's hesitation decided not to shower but take a bath. The tub just looked so inviting, and the hot water would warm him much better. While he waited for the bath to fill, he rummaged through the drawers and closets, finding what was to be expected in those places. Assortments of soap and shampoo, hairbrushes and ribbons, scented body lotions and bath salts. He took out a bottle of bubble bath and added it to the hot water, smiling as the foam began to rise. It smelled pleasantly of vanilla.

When the tub was nearly full he went inside, loving the feeling of the water warming his limbs. He lay still, bubbles up to his nose, and just tried to clear his mind of what had happened to get some moments of peace. There would be much thinking later, now he wanted to relax. He felt so tired, both physically and mentally exhausted. Closing his eyes, he savored the heat of the water, the scent of the bubbles...

He woke with his mouth and nose full of water; choking and coughing he rubbed his eyes, brushed his hair out of his face. Maybe it had not been such a good idea to take a bath after all, not if he could not stay awake through it. Usually he preferred to shower, at Marius' house he had never bathed.

Memory hit him with such force that it left him trembling. He saw Maharet's face, her cold mortal eyes staring at him, he heard Sybelle's screams as she burned, watched her writhe on the floor in agony, unable to move a muscle. The curtains and the carpet had caught fire, the heat had hurt him, the smoke was stinging in his eyes. And all the time those horrible screams, Sybelle crawling towards him, extending one hand asking, pleading, begging for help. Louis was trying to drag him away, but Maharet was preventing it; he did not dare to touch Sybelle in fear that she would set him ablaze. Get out of here, Armand had shouted, had mentally shoved him towards the window when Louis didn't seem to understand his words. Then he had been gone, leaving Armand and Sybelle alone in the inferno of the house. Maharet had disappeared as well, a satisfied smile on her face. Armand had been trying to think of something to convince her to stop this, to save them from death in the flames, but he had felt so tired, so drowsy. In the back of his mind he had known that it was all her doing, that he needed to concentrate and fight her, but he had not been able to form a coherent thought. Sinking to the floor he had helplessly watched Sybelle's struggles, had heard her gasps, her moans of pain.

He was trembling all over now, feeling cold despite the hot water. It was impossible to shake off the images of Sybelle's features distorted in agony; the smell that had surrounded him, the stench of burnt hair and burnt bodies, so similar to the smell when his mortal brothers had been cast into the bonfire by the Children of Darkness. Why did his mortal companions always die? Benji, he had been killed as well, never again Armand would see the round face, the beautiful dark eyes that constantly seemed to laugh. Had he suffered? Maharet had murdered him, as she had murdered Sybelle. His beloved Sybelle, what had been her failure? What had she done to deserve such a horrible, painful death? Armand could not ban her face from his thoughts, he constantly heard her screams. She had been shouting his name, begging him to save her. And he had been forced to watch as her body crumbled to ashes, only allowed to lose conscience after she had died.

Over and over he saw those images, no matter how much he concentrated on other things. Crawling out of the tub he curled up on the floor, shaken by sobs. He wanted so much to escape those visions, they were sticking to him and he could not shake them loose. It hurt, it hurt so much, and he cried for his children, cried for his Sybelle, for his Benji, for himself.

Arms came around him, he was being lifted and carried away. He struggled to stop sobbing, to hold back the tears, but he was not strong enough, had to surrender to them. His cheeks were completely wet, his face had to be a mess... Sybelle had not cried, if there had been tears in her eyes the fire had dried them before they could flow down her once smooth white cheeks that had been burnt and blackened.

Pandora's voice talked to him, soothing, comforting. His body was trembling, he could do nothing against it, no matter how much he tried. And always there were those images; he shook his head but they would not go away. Somebody was messing with his mind, trying to put him asleep as Maharet had done. He panicked, was she here again, had she come after him to get him even though he had escaped?

The attempt stopped, he was laid on a bed, saw Pandora lie down next to him, holding him close. He pressed himself against her, seeking the comfort it brought to feel her body, to have her arms embracing him tightly.

A blanked was tucked around them, Armand glimpsed Santino's face, that alone sent him into another panic attack. Santino, always connected with fires; had he had to do anything with the burning of Sybelle? The poor woman, if only Armand had never met her, then she would not have died in such a terrible way. Had Benji screamed when he had died? Armand had felt his pain, his fear. He wished he had been there, Benji had died alone, nobody had been there to fight for him to rescue him.

Another shiver ran through his body; Pandora gathered him even closer, tried to calm him. He lay limp in her arms, not caring what happened to him. Slowly his eyes closed, he could not say if he was falling asleep or losing conscience, and he did not care.  
***

Armand had finally fallen asleep; he was lying completely still in Pandora's arms, his mind shielded tightly. She did not need to read his thoughts anymore to know what was going on in his head; the images she had seen when he had collapsed had been enough. He had fought her when she had tried to mentally calm his mind, she did not want to try this again. All she could do was hold him, whisper soothing words and stay with him until he was himself again. Too often had she seen this happen, though Armand was the last person she would have expected to break down like this.

"Sybelle and Benji are dead," she informed Santino when he returned to the room. He had left when it had become clear that his presence unsettled Armand.

"And she nearly got Louis and Armand." He sat down on a chair, tying his hair back with a ribbon. Pandora noticed that he was not wearing his usual black; he had borrowed some of Marius' clothes, blue jeans and a wine red silk shirt. At least he could change his garments; Pandora was still wearing those in which she had come here.

"Do you think she will try again?"

Santino looked at the floor, thinking. "Probably," he said at last. "She believes that this is her duty, she won't just stop." He got up and began to pace, something Pandora had rarely seen him do. The whole affair was really unsettling him.

"But we can't stay here forever," she said, resting her head on the pillow. Armand murmured something, dreams were probably plaguing his sleep.

"I was not thinking of staying forever. A few weeks will perhaps be sufficient, surely some of the others will take steps."

"That is too long. Don't forget that you have to feed, and Armand as well." Pandora had been thinking of taking the auburn-haired vampire out to hunt tonight, but that plan had been invalidated by his current condition. Right now she did not trust him to be strong enough to leave the room on his own.

"There is a harbor not that far away, and we don't need to feed every night. Once a week will be more than enough."

"But that will leave you both starved after some time, what if Maharet discovers where Armand has disappeared to?" Pandora shook her head. "No, it is necessary that you are as strong as possible. I can perhaps defend one, but not two."

"Stay realistic, cara mia. You don't stand a chance against Maharet. It does not matter at all how strong any of us are. If she wants us dead, she'll simply kill us, no matter what we do."

"I hate it when you are reasonable." Santino gave her a humorless smile. "Alright, I see your point."

"You just don't like it at all," he finished for her. "Neither do I, but it won't help us to start believing in miracles now."

Pandora sighed, she knew he was right, but there had to be other possibilities apart from staying here and hoping that they would not be discovered. Sure, it would be rather safe to simply wait for others to stop Maharet's killing spree; Lestat would certainly go after her as soon as he knew that Louis had been attacked. And David, did Lestat even know what had happened to his youngest fledgling? Neither Pandora nor Santino had told him, there had been no other witnesses. Poor Lestat, he probably was not even aware yet of the full extent of what was happening. Eric, David, and the children; four deaths among their ranks in less than a week, and nobody knew how many Maharet had executed that were not part of the coven.

"We could call for help," Pandora suggested.

"Not a bad idea, but it would be dangerous at least." Santino stopped pacing and looked at her. "What if Maharet catches the call?"

"We'd have to hope that somebody else arrives first."

"Please, think this through. We would have to reach either Khayman or Lestat, none of the others could possibly stop Maharet. Way too risky." He shook his head, then sat down on the foot end of the bed. "Right now we have one advantage, and that is that nobody knows where we are. We should use it."

"Then let's stay here until you and Armand have recovered from yesterday night, and as soon as you are fit to travel we leave here to another hiding place. Maharet will eventually figure out where we have vanished to."

Santino nodded. "A useful idea. We could try to get to Khayman."

"Where does he live right now? Still in Greece?"

"As far as I know, yes." He smiled at Pandora. "I wanted to see Corinth again anyway."

Armand's sudden scream kept her from replying. He was still asleep, but tossed his head on the pillow, his hands clutching at the blanket. Pandora gathered him close, whispered comforting words to him, cooing reassuringly until he calmed somewhat. His breathing was fast, and she could hear his heart fluttering in his chest like a trapped bird. Still his mind was clamped shut in automatic self defense; from what Pandora had gained from him, Maharet had first rendered him immobile and then put him to sleep. Not surprising at all that Armand was shielding so tightly now.

Finally he went silent, trembling slightly in her arms as if he were feeling cold. His skin was icy now, no longer warm from the bath as it had been before, a sure sign that he needed to feed. It would calm his nerves too, Pandora thought as she raised her hand to her throat and slashed the skin. The scent of her own blood filled her nostrils, she felt Armand's body tense as he noticed it. A hand at the nape of his neck, she gently guided him to the wound, closing her eyes when he began to drink.

Almost at once she felt lightheaded, pleasure coursing through her body in waves. Instinctively Armand's arms came around her, held her firmly in place as he fed. She did not want him to stop, she needed the comfort this brought as much as he did. Armand was clinging to her like a lifeline, did not let go even after he had ceased to feed. Only too well Pandora knew that he craved closeness, comfort, love. She wondered how he would act when he had gotten over the first fierce pain of losing those beloved to him; somehow she could not imagine that it would not bother him at all that he had let them see him like this.

"You should feed, cara mia," Santino's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I am fine," Pandora protested, though she felt weary. The thought of going out into the cold night to hunt was so distracting that in the end she preferred to surrender to hunger.

"You are not, you let him take too much." He gave her a critical look. "Don't be foolish, you need it."

"Stop telling me what to do. I can decide for myself."

Santino shrugged. "Starve yourself then, but don't come complaining later, when your body is screaming for blood, the thirst burning you ferociously. All youwill be able to think of are tender mortal necks, the sweet blood in your mouth..." He was cut off by a well-aimed pillow.

"Shut up. I don't like it when you succumb to psychological warfare."

"With you it works every time." He smiled when Pandora began to search for another pillow to use as a projectile. When she could not find one, she sighed deeply and began to untangle herself from Armand, careful so she would not wake him.

"Are you sure you will be alright while I am gone?"

"I am six hundred and eighty-one years old, that should be enough to be left alone for an hour." He gave her a quick hug. "Don't worry. Just go and feed, we will be here when you come back, promise."

Pandora sighed. "Alright. Just don't unsettle Armand, that's all I ask of you."  
***

After Pandora had left Santino settled on the bed again, careful to keep as much distance from Armand as possible. He rather hoped that the other vampire would not wake; it would only complicate things if he did. That Santino's mere presence unsettled Armand was not what he had expected, but considering the events of last night he was not at all surprised. He just wished that Armand would get over what had happened so long ago finally; Marius had been able to forgive and trust him again, and Santino hoped that the Roman's fledgling could do the same.

He tried to concentrate on the topics at hand, there lay no use in thinking about things long past when they had enough problems to deal with right now. In his head Santino began mapping possible routes to reach Khayman. They could go west, across the Pacific and Russia until they arrived in Greece. It would be the longer way, but traveling with the night was safer. To the east the way would be shorter, but also more dangerous because their time was limited. Perhaps they would be forced to spend the day somewhere in Europe, and he would rather avoid this.

Armand stirred, causing Santino to sigh. It would have been too nice if he had just remained asleep, it was not as if Santino was having enough problems already. Quickly he glanced at his watch; Pandora could not be expected back for the next hour. He should better get used to the thought that he would have to handle this by himself.

A low moan escaped Armand's lips as he rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. Blinking a few times, he took stock of his surroundings, then his gaze fell on Santino. He froze, an expression of terror on his face which made Santino sigh again.

"There is no reason to be afraid. Relax."

"You! What are you doing here?" Armand was pushing himself into an upright position; Santino only hoped that he would not storm out of the room. The last thing he wanted right now was chasing a frightened Armand through the ruins of Marius' old home. He would have a hard time explaining this to Pandora.

"Right now? Sitting on a bed and talking to you." Probably not the best response, but the words slipped out before he thought about them.

"Leave me alone," Armand hissed.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that," Santino replied, concentrating on sounding friendly.

"Am I your prisoner? Are we going to repeat the old game?" Armand's voice was trembling with anger, but he was no longer in shock about the death of his children, so this could probably be considered a positive sign.

"Actually I was not planning to do that, but if it is what you want..."

Armand hesitated for a moment. "Is there anybody else here?"

"Apart from you and me? Pandora. You remember her, don't you? Curly brown hair, a little taller than you."

"I know who she is, thank you very much." It was clear that Santino's calm tone unnerved Armand; he looked as if he were about to lose control. Santino wondered why he was wound up so tightly, this tension could not only be the result of Armand's dislike for him. Something else was wrong here, but he did not feel like playing psychiatrist right now.

"Very well." Santino sighed, he was struggling to think of something to say. "How do you feel?"

"Why would you want to know? Do you care?"

"Of course I care! Do you think I would be here in the middle of nowhere if I didn't?" Santino was beginning to feel frustrated, he did not know what to think of this strange mood Armand was in. He had expected him to be frightened and hurt, not enraged. He began to suspect that Armand's anger was more a result of personal issues than of what had happened recently.

Armand appeared to think about his words, then shook his head. "No. But with you, one never knows out of which considerations you act."

"Thank you." Smiling, Santino bowed slightly, then faced Armand again. "And now back to my question. How do you feel?"

"I am not sure why I should tell you."

"Stop those childish games, Armand. There is no need for them now, we are not in a situation where we can afford to be pushing each other's buttons."

Armand sighed, looking once again a picture of perfect despair, and Santino felt sorry for his harsh tone. Still he thought it justified; after all he was just trying to find out if anything was wrong with Armand apart from the obvious trauma of Sybelle dying in front of his eyes. The Armand Santino knew would not have reacted like this; he would not even have befriended a mortal such as her. Things had changed over the centuries; they were both strangers to each other now.

"If you say so. I suppose I am not in a position to question your arguments. I would like to know something."

"Well?" Santino asked warily, trying to guess what it was.

"How could you and Pandora know that Maharet was going to set the house afire? You were there minutes after she had disappeared." Armand's eyes glittered, became slits. "Do you collaborate with her? Or was it mere chance that placed you in New Orleans when you have not been there for over a year?"

"Believe what you choose; I can offer you an explanation, it is up to you if you want to trust it." Santino pondered how to tell Armand of David's death and their talk with Maharet; first he thought of keeping as much of it a secret as possible, then decided that the complete story would be best. "Pandora and I were enjoying a typical London night. David was in the city too, not bothering us much until he suddenly called for help. We arrived in time to see Maharet watching his ashes cool down on the pavement."

"And that alone led you to the conclusion that she would next burn down Marius' house?" Armand shook his head slightly, and leaned back against the headboard. "Does Lestat know already?"

"Neither of us told him, there has not been time for it yet."

"He won't take it easy; that Maharet endangered Louis is enough to make Lestat angry at her, and now that she has killed David... This time chains won't be enough to restrain Lestat." It was amazing that Armand could talk so calmly about this; his face was a perfect blank, not a trace of his emotions showing. Santino felt a little proud of his former student, he had perfected the art of not showing what he thought.

It probably did Armand good to be able to concentrate on something, it would help him to keep the images of Sybelle out of his head. "What else has happened?"

"Maharet talked to us," Santino said, barely suppressing a shiver at the memory of her cold face. "She said Mekare has risen, that she has injured Jesse and killed Eric." He stopped; it hurt to speak of Eric's death as if it were just a point on a list. Santino had not thought that his friend would ever die. He had been so old... But not old enough. "Maharet took this as a sign that she has not enforced the rules firmly enough, and set out to punish offenders. You know where that led to."

Armand nodded, raw pain showing on his features for a moment, then it disappeared again. It would take time to heal that wound, Santino thought, and maybe it was still too fresh to really hurt.

"I know, yes." He sighed, then looked at Santino. "Something has to be done about her, I am sure that we... that we weren't the last she attacked."

"Let's talk about this when Pandora is back. We have not made any real plans yet for the future, the important thing right now is that we remain invisible until we all have recovered." He gave Armand a small smile. "You look as if you can use some rest."

To his surprise the smile was returned. "That can be said about you as well. But you are right, I really should sleep."

Nodding, Santino got up from the bed and went to the door to leave Armand to his rest. He would go and have a look around the rests of the house. Reaching for the handle, he was about to leave when a small noise made him turn around.

"Santino?" Armand asked, clearing his throat again. "Maybe you could... stay here?" He blinked in surprise, this was not something he had expected.

"Of course, if that is what you want..."

"I just... I just don't want to be alone." Armand gave him a look, somewhere between hopeful and pleading, and Santino returned to his former place. He did not know what to think of this; was it an offer from Armand to make peace, or was his fear of being alone greater than his dislike for Santino? It remained to be seen what would be the result of all this.

"I'll stay then," he said, sitting down again. "There's not much else I could do anyway."

"Thank you." Armand lay down again, resting his head on the pillow and closing his eyes. He looked so exhausted, so completely spent; it could only be hoped that he would sleep and not constantly be woken by dreams.

Santino felt the tiredness pulling at him as well, it was so nice to close his eyes for a moment, and then for another moment... As soon as Pandora was back he could rest, he imagined the feeling of a pillow under his head, his body wrapped into a blanket. Keeping his eyes open was becoming harder and harder, sleep was tugging at him. Blinking a few times, he closed his eyes again...

"Santino!"

His eyes snapped open, he frantically searched for a possible source of danger. At the same time he felt himself losing balance and falling, and hitting the ground a moment later. After a second of surprise, he moved to sit up, looking around.

"You were about to fall from the bed," Armand said, giving him an apologizing smile. "But it seems that I was too late."

"Seems so, yes." Santino rubbed his elbow, which had made abrupt contact with a bedpost.

"Maybe you would rather lie down than sit on the bed if you want to sleep?"

"I said I would stay here with you."

Armand nodded. "But you did not say that you would stay awake. Santino, you are falling asleep as soon as you do as much as blink." He hesitated for a moment. "There is more than enough space in this bed for both of us."

"Are you sure?" Santino asked, only lying down when he saw Armand's nod. He did not slip under the covers but stayed atop of them; with the heating turned on the room was warm enough for him to be comfortable.

"You know," Armand said, turning his face towards Santino and smiling, "when you fell from the bed it was the first time that I saw you in a position where you were not in control."

"M-hmm," Santino made, eyes already closing again; within moments he had fallen asleep.  
***

It was impossible to find sleep; as soon as he closed his eyes the dreams returned, visions of the burning room, of wallpaper curling off the wall in the intense heat. He felt it on his skin again, the flames were hurting him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that nothing of this was real, but still the dreams were so intense, bombarded his senses so he could not do anything to escape the onslaught.

His eyes snapped open; he saw the ceiling, white with an added yellow tint that had come with time. The lamp was there, a simple brown lamp with three round light bulbs. They were switched on; and he was grateful for that small favor. He would not have to fear the dark now, the shadows. Shivering slightly, a result of his dreams as well as the feeling of the cool air on his skin, he noticed that he was nude once again. Dimly he remembered being carried to bed by Pandora after having taken a bath; there had not been time yet to dress.

He slipped out of bed and left the room, casting a quick look at the sleeping figure of Santino as he reached the door. The other vampire looked so normal, the way he had curled up on the bed. With the tousled black hair and the tiny smile on his face, it was hard to believe what he had been responsible for. Armand pushed those thoughts back, he did not want to dwell on events long past now.

In the bathroom he found what he had been looking for; his clothes were still in a neat stack on a shelf, next to some white and light green towels. Actually Armand could not remember having ever seen those garments before, but they were roughly his size; there was nobody else who they could belong to. Whoever had bought them had chosen them for warmth and comfort rather than for their design; the knitted pullover had borders of snowflakes, fir trees and reindeers, and the pants were lined with warm cotton fleece. Winter garments if ever he had seen them; even the socks were thick and warm. Well, he was not going to complain, he had constantly been feeling cold since he had arrived here, though he knew the heating was turned on at top level.

Quickly he dressed, then went to the sink to wash his hands. When he looked into the mirror, he saw himself, his face pale, dried blood on his cheeks, dark shadows beneath his eyes. His hair was a splendid mess; he would have to cut it, there was no way he could get ever get those knots out with a brush. Turning on the water Armand cleaned himself as well as possible, blotting the blood stains away with a wet towel. It felt good to have the warm water touch his skin; and it left him feeling clean and warm and comforted.

After drying his face he rummaged through the numerous drawers and small closets, searching for a pair of scissors to fix his hair. It was dirty and tangled, and only reminded him of what had happened. If he could clean himself, make all traces of the journey and the fire disappear, he could pretend that it had never happened, that his world was still the same. And yet he was painfully aware that he was trying to deceive himself, that he had to face reality.

Sighing he rested his hands on the sink, leaning heavily on it. He could not escape the past, it was impossible, that much he had learned in his life. So often had he tried to forget, and always the memories had been brought back to him. This time there would not be different. The burden of five hundred years worth of mostly unpleasant memories was a heavy one.

His gaze fell on something shiny lying on a shelf just below the mirror. Scissors, and a few curls of dark brown hair. Pandora had been here it seemed. Armand took the scissors and started snipping away, dropping the cut off tresses into the bin. A mass of dark curls was there already, it looked strange to see his own auburn strands added to it. On and on he went, taking some strands in his hand, then cutting them off and discarding them.

When he had finished he had to admit that it was not the best haircut he had ever managed; but he looked rather normal and tidy again. He ran his hand through his now short hair, then put down the scissors again, turned away from the mirror and left the bathroom.

In the hall Armand did not turn right to return to the bedroom, but went left towards the destroyed part of the house through which they had entered the last night. He needed to see the stars, had to confirm himself that the world was still standing, no matter what had happened. Stepping over bricks and iron beams, he made his way along the hall, and was finally standing in the snow.

The ruins of the main building cast dark shadows, there was not much to be seen but an uneven surface covered with snow. The years had done their work to hide the destruction, soon nothing would be visible anymore of Marius' former refuge. Also the part of the house where they had found shelter would eventually collapse when nobody was here to maintain it; the wind and the snow would inevitably do their work. Nothing would be left, the place would not exist any longer save in the memories of a few people.

Taking a deep breath, Armand knelt down, staring up to the stars. They were silent this night, cold and remote. So beautiful, glittering diamonds on dark blue velvet. To watch them gave him a feeling of peace, he was beginning to feel as emotionless and distant as the stars. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing. He struggled to confirm himself of this, to push all pain and all hurt away. A fight with himself, with his mind, the strongest of enemies.

He could not remember how long he had been out there when he felt another presence. Whoever was approaching him was deliberately making noises.

"Leave me," Armand said quietly, yet firmly.

"No."

He sighed; he should have known that as soon as Santino woke he would come looking for him.

"Please. I want to be alone."

"You don't," Santino stated. "You only think that it is what you want. Don't deceive yourself."

"Stop trying to manipulate me." Armand shielded his mind tightly and sat down, hugging his knees.

"I am not trying to do that. I just think you do not have to freeze out here when you can as well be inside where it is warm."

"I don't feel cold."

"Do you feel anything at all?"

Armand hesitated. "No," he finally said.

"Then stay out here for all I care. I'll come before dawn to see if you have turned into an icicle."

He had to smile a little. "You don't mean what you say."

"What makes you think so?" Armand could imagine Santino's face this very moment; the slightly raised eyebrow, the tiny smile on his lips.

"You can't possibly leave me out here, if not only because Pandora would never forgive you if you did."

This time Santino laughed softly. "So why don't you come inside when you know that you'll eventually have to do it?"

"I don't want to make it so easy for you."

"Isn't it uncomfortable out here?"

"I don't care."

Santino sighed, then came closer and sat down next to Armand. "But you do care. You want this, you are trying to punish yourself in staying out in the cold. Do you think you can receive an absolution through having your body turn to death?"

"Why not?"

"Because it is foolish. Monks chastised themselves for centuries, and never did God send them a sign that He forgave their sins."

"I don't seek forgiveness."

"What else do you want then?"

"Nothing... Nothing at all." Despite all efforts to ignore it, Armand was beginning to feel the cold, like a thousand little pricks in his skin. He could hardly suppress a shiver.

"So you ask for nothing, and yet your mind screams for revenge." Santino paused, turned to look at Armand, his eyes darker than usual. "Don't you wish God would strike down those who caused the death of Sybelle, of Benji?"

"I do," Armand whispered before he knew what he was saying.

"Stop it then. Don't believe that God will do anything. There is no such thing as God, or He never interferes."

"What do you mean? I don't want to discuss religion now."

"Neither do I. What I am trying to say is that nothing will happen if you don't cause it to happen."

"I should seek revenge, is that what you are telling me?"

Santino shook his head, stared out over the snow. "Either you forget about Maharet's attack, or you make her pay for it. But don't keep brooding, that way you will only feel the pain more intensely. Whatever you do, you will eventually have to forget."

"Do you know what you are saying?"

"Of course."

"You can't expect me to simply put what has happened out of my mind! How can I ever forget Sybelle?"

"I don't want you to forget about her. But don't remember her death, remember the way she lived. If you burden your mind with her suffering, you will only hurt yourself."

Hands were suddenly on Armand's shoulders, pulling him to his feet. He was led inside again, not into the bedroom but a small drawing room, kept mostly in yellow, orange and other warm colors. Paintings covered the walls, of sunrises, the moon glittering on the waves of the sea, morning dew on a leaf. It looked wonderfully comfortable. Santino made him sit down on the sofa, and took a seat at his side.

"Now look at your fingers." Armand raised them in front of his face and saw that they were bleeding, and slightly blue. "Was that really necessary?" Santino asked, covering them with his hands and massaging them gently. "You can hurt yourself quite badly that way. Cold may not have an effect as strong on us as on mortals, but it has an effect nevertheless."

Armand was grateful for the warmth that was being rubbed into his hands again; he had not felt them any longer, but he had not cared either. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"I don't want your fingers to fall off."

"You know what I mean. Why do you care for me like this?"

"Because somebody has to do it, and I am around right now." Santino smiled at him a little. "I don't want you to get hurt just because you don't care what happens to you. The time will come when you care again, until then let others do it for you."

"Thank you," Armand said, hoping that Santino heard that he meant it.

"Never mind." Surprised, he felt himself being drawn into a light embrace. "Just don't let this destroy you." Santino looked at him, a serious expression on his face, then smiled a little. "Pandora and I have done so much to keep you alive, it would not be very nice for us to find that we have wasted our time."  
***

As soon as Pandora returned to the house she searched for Santino and Armand. She didn't try to scan for them, they would be shielding tightly, or so she hoped. Santino knew that it was vitally important for them to be impossible to find, and he certainly had told Armand also. They would have to leave the refuge anyway, search the help and protection of one strong enough to defend them against Maharet if necessary. Pandora was well aware that she wouldn't stand a chance against the ancient vampire, but she also knew that she would not just watch if Maharet dared to  
attack Santino or Armand, or any of the others. Sister of the Queen or not, Maharet did not have the right to be the judge over life and death.

She found the other two in the drawing room; they were sitting on the couch talking. Smiling she saw that they were getting along as well as it could be expected, she had feared that leaving Armand under Santino's care might not be the wisest idea. It was a relief to see that they sat in the same room, and judging the expressions on their faces, they seemed rather at ease.

"I hope I am not interrupting anything," she said, settling on one of the wicker chairs gracefully.

"Of course not, cara mia," Santino replied, blowing her a kiss. "We were just talking of you anyway. Speak of the devil... " She shot him a glare, which he answered with a quick grin.

"Did you feed?" Armand asked, sounding a little uneasy and making Pandora wonder about the reasons for that question. Was he trying to be polite, did he tell her that he was hungry too?

She nodded, then gave him a measuring look. "How do you feel tonight?"

"Why do you both want to know that?" Armand shook his head and leaned against the backrest. "Santino kept asking the same."

"And you didn't answer me yet, by the way," Santino threw in, earning an exasperated glance from Armand.

"I am alright, if you need to know." Physically that was probably true, Pandora decided. He did not look overly pale or gaunt, did not tremble any longer. There was some blood on his hands, but Santino shook his head when he noticed that she was staring at it. She nodded to signal understanding; if he thought it was not necessary or not the right time to talk about that, she would accept his judgement. It only looked like small wounds anyway, they would heal within the next hour.

Armand's mental condition was a completely other issue.

It was only natural that he hurt, Pandora knew some of what had happened, and thinking of it sent a shiver down her spine. The thought that Armand had been forced to watch Sybelle burn to ashes slowly while he could do nothing to help her made Pandora want to wring Maharet's neck. Maybe she thought that what she did was justified, but nothing could be done to make such cruelties and tortures seem deserved.

Shifting into a more comfortable position Pandora looked at the auburn-haired boy who was sitting opposite to her. Sure, he had lived through more than one tragedy in his life, but there always was the point when the mind could take no more pain. She really hoped Armand's tolerance of hurt had reached a more than average height. The last two nights had left her strangely protective of him, she could not quite say why, after all she had never cared much about him. Maybe it was his youthful appearance that stirred a maternal instinct, or perhaps the fact that he had been hurt and she felt partly responsible for it. They had known of Maharet's plans, had been able to predict her next action, and still they had not managed to keep Marius' fledglings safe.

"What will we do now?" Armand asked, breaking the silence. Pandora exchanged a quick look with Santino, she did not really know what to tell Armand.

"Leave this place, that much is for sure," Santino said; she was grateful that he had answered the question.

"And where will we go?"

"The original idea was to seek Khayman's protection, but we might have to alter the plans." Surprised Pandora faced him, silently asking for a clarification. "Lestat and Marius were searching for us, didn't you feel it?"

"You know I can't sense Marius," Pandora stated. She remembered having the feeling of being watched when she had been out to hunt, but she had not thought much about it. "So it was Lestat?"

"Yes, and as I said, Marius as well. I suppose they were looking for Armand."

"That would not be very logical," Armand said slowly. "Why should Marius be scanning for me?"

"Perhaps he thinks you are in somebody's company." Pandora brushed a strand of hair out of her face and started to braid her hair. "We can only guess how much they know yet of what has happened since Maharet started her," she paused, searching for the right word, "her crusade."

"If Louis has really escaped..." Santino seemed nervous, Pandora could tell that this talk unsettled him. She suspected that it was because all their plans would in the end have to be based on nothing but assumptions, all they could do now was estimate as well as possible what could have happened.

"He has," Armand interrupted. "I am sure of that. Maharet would have no reason to attack him. He was just an innocent bystander in all this."

"Alright. So Louis has survived, and by now he certainly has been found." Pausing, Santino met Pandora's gaze before he continued, and she saw the haunted look in his eyes. He would need a break after this was over; the physical exhaustion of traveling here combined with the effort he made to concentrate on solving the problems at hand were not something that could simply be ignored, it would take its toll sooner or later. "I am also sure that Lestat and Marius are together now, or have at least met."

"Louis will tell them that I am dead," Armand stated. "Marius has to know that I am alive, I am afraid of what he might do if he finds all his fledglings gone."

Pandora nodded in agreement. "We should maybe go to them instead of Khayman. Lestat can protect us, and Marius will be grateful about our support. Most important is that he knows Armand is alright, and it will also help him if I am close for some time."

"Let's assume we travel south, to Lestat," Santino said calmly, his hands folded, lips touching his fingers. He looked as if he were praying. "If they still search for us, they will detect us as soon as we have covered half the distance, and then come to meet us. The risk is that Maharet might be somewhere too. Think of it. The logical thing for us to do is to return to New Orleans, to Lestat and Marius. She might be counting on that."

"But she knows you, she would perhaps assume that if you are with us, we won't do that." Pandora remembered Santino's tales of his visits at Maharet's place; she could not recall much positive about them.

"Or she could think that I will count on her believing that I won't go to New Orleans, and go there exactly because of that." Santino shook his head, smiling. "There is no use in pursuing that line of thought. We have to decide between going to Khayman, which most likely is the safer option, and traveling to New Orleans; more risky, but also the better place to be. Lestat and Marius are already involved in this mess, we would not have to drag Khayman into it."

They fell silent; Pandora avoided to look at the others. She did not want to be the one to decide this, especially since she preferred the second option while she knew that Santino would opt for the first if asked. She assumed that Armand would rather go to Marius, an understandable decision. Poor Marius, he had to be thinking that he had lost all of his children now. Pandora had never considered herself to be his fledgling; she had been his lover, not his daughter.

"What if we split up..." Santino began, but Pandora cut him off.

"No. We won't do that. We will stand through this together."

"One of us could serve as a bait to distract her."

"And that one would be you." She noticed his surprised look. "I know you well enough to guess that."

"Then it is decided that we are going to stay together." Pandora nodded to his, and waited in case he wanted to say something else. When he remained silent, she spoke.

"I think it is clear where we have to go," she stated, watching Armand for the slightest reaction. But he kept his face a blank, not showing at all what he was thinking right now. "We are too deeply involved in the whole affair to run from it now."

"Armand?" Santino was apparently going to wait for his opinion before he offered his own.

"I don't know... I would like to see Marius, but..." It was plain that Armand did not know what to do now, he had not wanted to be the one whose vote would decide this. But there was also an undertone of insecurity that went beyond the fear of disappointing either Pandora or Santino; he feared something, and Pandora could not think what it might be. She left her chair and sat at his side, drew him into a light embrace to offer comfort when she had no advice for him.

"New Orleans it is then," Santino said, he had noticed Armand's discomfort also. Pandora knew that he was not altogether happy about the decision, but he certainly was aware of the fact that sooner or later they would have to go there anyway. They could as well save time and travel there immediately.  
***

Treason: Chapter 9 - Coming Together

"The great art of life is sensation,  
to feel that we exist, even in pain."  
\- Lord Byron  
***

The air was cool, slightly too cold for him; the air condition had probably been running all day. Marius stretched, then folded back the cover and left the bed. His pants and shirt were still where he had left them, neatly folded over the backrest of one of the hotel chairs; the boxers he had kept on for sake of decency.

When Lestat had retired in the morning, announcing that he would not leave Louis, who was still sleeping, out of his sight again,

Marius and Daniel had been faced with having to share the second bedroom of the suite. At first Daniel had suggested that he could sleep on the couch in the sitting room, but Marius had not wanted the young vampire to have an aching back in the evening. So they had been sharing the bed, a rather awkward affair with each of them trying to move as far away from the other as possible, while still having to share one blanket.

It had mostly been Daniel who had been disturbed by the idea of sleeping so close to someone else; Marius had not wanted to unsettle the fledgling. His beloved Amadeo's only child; he had Marius' blood in his veins as well as Armand's. Strange, Marius thought, he had never felt family bonds to vampires other than his fledglings, but to think of this young one as his descendant was soothing. Blood of his blood, and perhaps the only one who was still left of Marius' line.

After they had found Louis buried in the garden of what had once been Marius' house and what was a smoking ruin now, Lestat had tried to find Armand again, but had not succeeded. As soon as they were back to the hotel room, Marius had tried to call Pandora, needing to confirm himself that she was alright, that he could at least be sure that his oldest child was alive and well. Nobody had answered the phone.

Marius had tried not to show his worry, and surely Lestat had not noticed. The blond vampire had been focusing his attention strictly on Louis, who appeared to be alright but rather confused. He had not paid much attention to Marius, he could as well have been part of the furniture. But Daniel had guessed, and had set out to convince Marius that everything was alright, that Pandora didn't pick up the receiver because the sun had already risen wherever she was staying. Marius wanted to believe this, needed to believe that not all of his fledglings had died.

He was beginning to accept Armand's death, the vampire was nowhere to be found, and the images Marius had seen in Louis' mind were more than disturbing. His Amadeo, enclosed in flames, unable to move as he screamed at Louis to get out. Death by fire, when the sun had not been enough to rip the beloved child out of Marius' arms. He did not cry any longer, the tears he had shed when he had found his home an inferno, when no trace of his fledglings could be found. Of course he felt grief, but he was trying to concentrate on other things, tasks that had to be performed.

A knock at the door made Marius turn his head; when he opened it, Lestat was standing there, looking a little tired but also happy. Louis must be better, Marius reasoned, or Lestat would not leave him alone even for a second.

"Marius! How nice that you are awake already." Lestat strode into the room, cast the still leeping Daniel a quick look and plopped down on the bed, causing the younger vampire to stir.

"What is it, Lestat? How is Louis?" Marius asked, taking a seat on one of the chairs.

"Oh, he's alright. I fed him, he's not hurt or anything." Not hurt, while his fledglings were dead. The world could be so cruel. Why had his children been the ones who died, why not Louis instead of them? What made him different?

Marius pushed those thoughts back, he told himself that he ought to be happy that at least the black-haired vampire had survived. Still the thought was gnawing at him.

"I am glad to hear that... Is he awake yet?"

Lestat shook his head, smiling a little. "No, he still sleeps. You know, he could wake much earlier if he wanted, but he keeps saying that he is not strong enough. Even Daniel is going to rise before him."

Marius said nothing, just looked at Lestat. He was looking at this reckless brat as his son of sorts, maybe not as close to him as his true fledglings, but still there was the love Marius felt towards all his children. The first time he had seen Lestat, the young one had been so hurt, so wounded, and he had just pitied him. Now nothing could possibly hurt Lestat any longer. Nothing. This child could not be taken from his arms.

"Lestat... you haven't scanned for them yet tonight, have you?"

The younger vampire shook his head, blond mane flying. "No. Do you want me to try again?"

He nodded and leaned back, wondering why he now dared to hope that one of his fledglings might live. After all he had not seen the ashes of any of them, nobody had seen them die. Sure, Louis had been dreaming of Sybelle burning, but that did not necessarily mean that she was dead. Perhaps she had only been hurt. And Armand, they knew nothing of Armand at the moment. Even Pandora had to be around somewhere, there was no possibility that a spirit that strong had left the earth without being noticed.

Lestat was lying on his back now, eyes closed in concentration. Theoretically any vampire should find it difficult to hide from him, no matter how well he or she was shielding. Lestat's powers could not be estimated, not even by the Brat himself. Marius hoped that his friend would find something, he cursed the fact that he could not hear his fledglings the way he felt others. How much better it would have made him feel if he could look for them himself instead of having to ask Lestat for it.

Daniel was beginning to stir, opened his eyes, blinked a few times until he looked at Marius sleepily. His hair was mussed and standing in all directions, he looked as if he had been living on nothing but coffee for the last week.

Marius was grateful for his presence, he did not know if he would have been able to manage after discovering his burnt house if Daniel had not been there to comfort him and take care of all the formalities.

"Good evening," Marius said, smiling at him. The sight of the young vampire warmed his heart. "Have you slept well?"

"More or less," Daniel replied, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. "I just find it a little unsettling to sleep next to another of our kind."

"But you have lived with... with Armand..." Marius trailed off, he did not want to continue, not knowing knowing if for his or for the other's sake. Mentioning that name touched a raw nerve somewhere in his chest.

"I have, yes," Daniel said softly. "But it was different. I knew him, better than myself maybe, while all that I know of you is what somebody wrote into books. That makes me feel just a tiny bit uneasy."

"Perhaps we could get to know each other better?" Before he really knew what he was saying, the wordshad escaped his mouth. Marius, what are you trying to do? He could not answer his own question, but he knew that what he did not want was that Daniel feared him, even if it only was something as unimportant as not sleeping that well in his presence.

Before Daniel could reply to this, Lestat suddenly sat upright, a smile on his face. "I found somebody," he said, running a hand through his hair to smooth the tangled strands. "They are on the way here."  
***

"They? Who do you mean?" Marius asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. Lestat could be meaning anybody, perhaps Armand, perhaps somebody else. Oh, how he wished that it would be Armand. The hope hurt, there always was the shadow of doubt hovering over it. "Lestat, please, tell me who you are talking of."

"Armand and Santino, I am sure about those two," came the answer. "There is somebody else, I believe it is Pandora, but the presence is too tightly shielded to say for sure."

Marius sank back on the chair, closing his eyes and trying to get his thoughts under control. Armand still alive! But why was he in the company of Pandora and Santino?

And where had they been? Perhaps he had called for help, and those two had been the first to answer. Or had they kept Armand from him? They had been hiding, or Lestat and Marius would have discovered them earlier. Who were they hiding from? Was it from Marius? Or the attacker who had burned down the house? So many questions, and no answers.

"Are you alright?" A hand touched his shoulder, and when Marius opened his eyes he found that Daniel was peering at him worriedly. "You went white like snow suddenly."

He forced himself to smile at the young vampire. "I am more than alright. To know that Armand is not dead, to think that I will be holding him in my arms soon..." He broke off, tears were welling up in his eyes, of joy and relief. Quickly he searched his pockets for the silk handkerchief he used to carry, but could not find it; probably he had lost it somewhere last night.

"Here." Daniel handed him a packet of paper tissues, and he took it gratefully to dab away the crimson stains he knew to be on his cheeks. The tissues were rough against his skin, the raw texture reminding him why he did not normally use them.

They all turned their heads when they heard a knock; even Lestat moved into a sitting position again. The door was opened a crack, and Louis' beautiful face came in sight. He seemed alright, all traces from last night, the exhaustion, the confusion, were gone from his features. No marks were left, not tell-tale scars.

"I am sorry if I am disturbing you..." he said, giving Marius an slightly puzzled look when he noticed the tears. Marius was about to say something to explain the situation when Lestat left his seat in a blur and caught Louis in a tight embrace.

"Mon cher, mon Louis," he whispered, loud enough for everybody to hear. "I was missing your presence already after such a short time." He placed a kiss on Louis' forehead, then loosened his grip a little when he noticed that the black-haired vampire's breathing was becoming labored. "Sit down, you must not exhaust yourself."

"Thank you, Lestat, but I am rested," Louis replied, switching back to English. Marius guessed that it was out of politeness towards Daniel, who did not understand French very well, something they had discovered last night, when Lestat had kept talking in French out of nervousness and excitement at finding Louis unharmed.

"Do you need anything?" Lestat asked, his eyes not leaving Louis' face, searching his fledgling's features for the slightest trace of discomfort.

Louis smiled, a little embarrassed. "I would like to hunt," he said quietly, as if he were ashamed for having to mention something like that. He had never talked easily of his hunger and need to feed, Marius remembered. No true gentleman mentioned such a thing in company.

"What are you waiting for? Get your coat!" Lestat was out of the door in an instant, dragging Louis with him. Marius wondered if they would really hunt together, or if they would separate once they had left the hotel. Many of their kind felt uneasy when they hunted in company, Marius himself was no exception. But last night, before they had separated to sleep for the day, Lestat, Daniel and Marius had agreed that neither of them should hunt on his own, lest the still anonymous attacker was close. The risk was simply too great.

Sighing softly, Marius tried to think of a way to pass the time until his fledglings arrived. He wished he had asked Lestat how long it would take them to arrive here, but the relief and the happiness had made him forget about such basic questions. That Armand was alive was the most wonderful news Marius had heard for a long time, it was good to know that at least his cherub had survived when the young Benji and Sybelle were dead. Of course it hurt to think that Marius would never see them again, but his relationship to them had not been as close as to Armand. They had been merely two mortals, brought through because Marius had believed that Armand himself would not, could not do it. But his old child, his Amadeo, that one he would have missed for eternity. It did not matter if they were not staying together, if they did not talk for centuries, as long as Marius knew that the boy he had raised so long ago still roamed the earth.

"Do you want to hunt too?" he asked Daniel, who was staring out of the window by now, hands gripping the sill tightly. It would give them something to do until his lost fledgling arrived.

"I am not hungry," came the brisk reply; Daniel did not even turn to look at him but continued to stare down at the street.

"I will accompany you, it does not bother me to come with you if that is what worries you."

"Thank you. But I am not going to feed tonight."

Marius was not sure how strong exactly the young vampire was, maybe he really did not need to feed. He did not want to press him, but what if Daniel simply was too shy to ask for Marius' company? They did not know each other well, the distance between them was perhaps making it difficult to request such a thing. But certainly Daniel knew that he did not have to fear Marius, that there was no reason to decline the offer.

In a swift motion, so fast that even Marius only saw a blur, Daniel was out of the door. Marius went after him, not consciously moving but thinking that he had to catch the young vampire. At the door he caught him, held his arm in a tight grip that was probably hurting the other a little. Daniel shot him an angry glance, but did not try to break free. He knew very well that it would be a futile attempt to struggle against Marius' superior strength.

"Where are you going?" Marius asked, not letting go still, but leading him towards the sofa and making him sit down.

"You don't need me here any longer. I can't help, so I'll go."

"But you don't have to go, Daniel. Certainly Louis will want to talk to you, and Armand..."

"Armand does not care what I do, as long as I stay out of his life," Daniel interrupted in a sharp voice."He is glad that he finally got rid of me."

"How can you say such a thing?" Marius could not believe what he heard. Sure, Daniel and Armand had grown apart, but that was only a natural thing that happened nearly always between maker and fledgling. Had there been a fight he was not aware of? But those two had always been bickering, Marius had thought it to be a sign of their love. They were the thorn in each other's side, but that connected them, and he was sure that they had liked each other the last time Marius had seen them together.

And when had that been? More than ten years ago. Enough time for feelings to change, to become a  
tormentor to the other. The situation between Marius and Pandora had been similar, he recalled; only that they had had a purpose to unite them. He had often thought that if it had not been for the Mother and the Father, they would have separated a lot earlier. Beautiful Pandora, he would hold her in his arms again, would hear her sweet laughter, her witty responses. He missed her, no matter how much he tried to confirm himself that they were better off on their own, that they would start fighting if they stayed in the same room for more than ten minutes. Marius shook his head, tried to push the thoughts of his oldest child and first love back in his mind and concentrate on the topic at hand.

"Daniel, Armand loves you, how can you doubt that?"

"Are you really so blind that you don't see it? He has not been the least interested in my life, he simply forgot about me after he had made me his fledgling. Why should he want to see me?" Daniel was more agitated than Marius had ever seen him before, this had been gnawing at him for some time.

"Because you are his fledgling. He would never have brought you through if he had not loved you." Marius let go of Daniel's arm, ready to catch him again if he should try to run. This needed to be talked through.

"He made me his fledgling because he could not bear the thought of losing his mortal toy. And when he lost interest in me, he pushed me away. It's that simple."

"Such things are never simple." Marius sighed, trying to think of a way to convince Daniel that Armand cared for him. The bad thing was that he did not know himself what feelings Armand held for his only child.

"He called you last night. Why do you think he did that?" Daniel did not answer, which Marius had  
expected. "He had to find out if you were alright and safe, he probably tried to warn you. Would he have done that if you did not mean anything to him? What do you think?"

Daniel did not say anything still, just stared at his hands, refusing to meet Marius' gaze. He looked lost, a child who did not know his place in the world yet.

"Talk to Armand, or at least stay here and give him the chance to talk with you."

Slowly, Daniel nodded. "Alright. But it won't change anything."

Marius gave him an inquiring look. "How can you be that sure about it? Try it, that's all I ask of you. I can't watch as the relationship between you and Armand suffers just because you never talk."

This time Daniel smiled a little, and met Marius' eyes. "I will talk to him then, if it means so much to you."  
***

Usually Louis insisted on hunting alone, he did not feel comfortable at the thought that anybody watched him as he took a life. Having to kill was bad enough, to him it was a most private action. Some of the others did not understand his point of view, they thought it ridiculous that a vampire could feel embarrassed about feeding; to them the nightly kills were just something that had to be done in order to secure their survival. Louis knew that nearly all vampires felt somewhat guilty for what they did, or at least respected their prey. He hated to see somebody playing with the victim, tormenting the poor mortal before taking the final step.

Lestat had done that sometimes, followed his intended prey for weeks until he killed the victim. That particular behaviour had stopped now; since Lestat had woken from his coma he had not stalked a single mortal. He had not fed much either; Louis could count on one hand the times the blond vampire had been out to hunt since then. When asked, he insisted that he did not need the blood, that he wanted to know how long he could last without feeling the hunger.

It had not always been like this, only some years ago Lestat had fed nightly, not out of hunger for blood but for the pleasure the kill brought. Somehow this was gone from him now, he seemed to regret what he had done. But did refraining from what his nature told him to do make him a chastised sinner?

In another century Louis would have agreed to this, now he merely made sure that Lestat hunted at least once a week. He, too, had learned that taking life was what had to be done in order to live.

He cast a quick glance at Lestat, who was walking at his side, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat, a small smile on his face.

"Where are we going?" Louis asked, he had not paid much attention to their direction, and could not remember having taken this way before.

"Nowhere," Lestat answered a seductive voice, tracing Louis' jaw with his thumb. Louis grimaced, he did not like it very much when Lestat acted and quoted movies. He earned a soft laughter from Lestat, and felt lips touching his cheek. "To the waterfront, if you need to know."

Louis smiled a little, and touched Lestat's hand briefly. He felt a little shy to display his affection in public, other than Lestat he did not like to be watched, considered those little gestures something private that had to be treasured, not displayed for the whole world to know.

They passed a couple of young women, who were chatting amicably and did not even take notice of them. Lestat stopped and watched as they walked away, his eyes bright with sudden blood lust. When he took a few steps in their direction, Louis shook his head and refused to follow him. Not them, not those two who were so sweet and happy and completely unaware of everything evil. He did not often feel such scruples, but tonight he did not want to carry the guilt of having taken an innocent.

To his surprise Lestat nodded understandingly, and they continued walking through the streets. Louis gave him a grateful smile, and did not shy away when he felt Lestat's arm come around his shoulder.

After some time they had left the respectable quarters behind and had reached the part of the city that remained invisible to common tourists. Narrow streets, badly lit; garbage bags were piling up in front of house entries. The stench of urine covered everything, enforced by supernatural senses. Louis tried to think of something else, he was beginning to feel physically sick in these surroundings. There were hardly any mortals around, they had all locked themselves in the tiny places they called home.

They finally fed on two burglars about to smash in the window of a shop. The mortals could not even be called adults yet, two young boys armed with switchblades, reeking of dirt and alcohol. Louis did not even look at them properly but had one of them trapped against a wall in an instant, feeding from him quickly. He tried to block out the visions, he did not want to discover a horrible tragedy behind the face of his prey that would make him feel sorry for the boy, more sorry than he already felt.

Only too quickly did he notice the death come, pulled away in time with the last heartbeat. The taste of the blood was lingering on his lips. Louis reached into his pocket and produced a white linen handkerchief, dabbed away the small traces of blood in the corners of his mouth.

When he turned back at his victim to hide the body, he almost backed away. The boy had a pale face, framed in rich auburn curls, maybe a shade darker than those of a vampire Louis had known for so long, and who was gone now. He closed his eyes, tried to shut out the vision of the handsome features, the big brown eyes. Tried to forget what had happened to Armand.

"Louis?" He let himself being embraced by Lestat, leaned against him to shield his eyes from the sight.

"What is wrong? You can tell me." Louis waited until he felt able to speak again, then rose his head to meet Lestat's eyes.

"I only remembered Armand..."

Lestat raised an eyebrow. "Since when does he unsettle you like that?"

Did Lestat not know? Was it possible that he was not aware yet that Armand had perished in the flames that had almost been Louis' death as well?

"Lestat," he said quietly, "surely you know that Armand is... is dead..."

"What? When did that happen? The imp was there an hour ago, I felt him clearly!"

Louis did not quite grasp what Lestat was talking of. How could he have felt Armand when the auburn-haired vampire had been killed? That was impossible, wasn't it? Louis hoped that Lestat did not start to see ghosts once again. Then reason slowly kicked in. Of course it was possible that Lestat had sensed Armand; perhaps he was still alive, contrary to what Louis had believed.

"You are saying that he did not die in the fire?"

"Exactly." Lestat looked at Louis, a smile flickering in his eyes. "Certainly you did not think that we would ever be rid of Armand, did you?"

Louis did not answer but embraced Lestat tightly, trying to show him how much those words meant. Armand alive, when Louis had believed him to be gone. Put it to Armand to be able to return from what had seemed like certain death more than once. He was like a cat, he had not one life but nine. Or maybe more. And Louis was horribly glad about that.  
***

Being carried by another vampire was none of Armand's favorite ways to travel. He felt too dependent then, unable to control the course or the speed. But when he had tried to tell that to Pandora, she had only shaken her head and ignored his attempts to convince her that he'd rather fly himself. And here he was now, held in her arms as she sped through the air. Pandora had even wrapped him into a wool blanket despite his protests; as soon as they had taken to the air, Armand had to admit that he was grateful for the additional warmth this offered.

It puzzled him that this closeness did not unsettle him; usually he tried to maintain at least a basic distance. Something about Pandora made Armand trust her, though he could not quite say what it was. Perhaps the fact that she was Marius' fledgling, the same as he, and that this connected them somehow. But vampires did not have relatives, did they? Certainly he could not call Pandora his sister, that sounded wrong to him. She was just somebody who had been there when he needed help, and who was caring about him now. Armand had to admit that he enjoyed this treatment; it was different from the way Marius had behaved around him. Pandora did not consider her words at all, she spoke her mind, something Armand found more than refreshing after being surrounded by people who measured every word they said in his presence. Finally somebody who did not think him a potential suicidal who could be driven over the edge by a careless comment.

They had been flying for about half an hour now, and Armand was beginning to grow tired. Perhaps he could sleep a little, he would not get any rest when they arrived in New Orleans. Resting his head against Pandora's shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her neck and felt her hold on him tighten in response.

"Tired, young one?" she asked, and he could practically hear that she was smiling.

"A little..."

"Don't worry, I won't drop you."

Armand nodded and closed his eyes; he was still afraid of falling asleep. What if the dreams came again, the images of Sybelle dying in front of him? Every time he saw that, he was painfully reminded of her, of his helplessness to protect his girl. He knew he needed to sleep, he had not felt so worn out for quite some time. But the thought of surrendering to the dreams scared him.

Nevertheless he nodded off at some point, and when he opened his eyes again he noticed that Pandora was descending slowly. Stifling a yawn, he carefully stretched his limbs, then made himself comfortable in her arms again, burying his face against her chest to protect himself from the stinging air. Pandora smelled faintly of vanilla, he recalled that in Marius' old refuge there had been a bubble bath with that scent. It suited her, he thought. When they were in New Orleans he would buy her a vanilla-scented perfume.

"Awake already?" he heard her ask.

"Yes... are we there yet?"

Pandora shook her head. "No, we are just going down to feed. I need a short rest, and Santino as well."

"How far is it to New Orleans?" Armand asked, trying to guess where they were right now.

"About one more hour. We will arrive there safely before dawn if nothing unforeseen happens." Did that mean that she feared Maharet could discover them? If Armand was sure about one single thing, it was that he did not want to ever see the ancient vampire again. She had hurt him deliberately, had forced him to watch as Sybelle twisted in pain before she burned to ashes.

"Does Marius know that we are coming?"

"I don't know. Lestat was scanning for us again while you were asleep, they certainly know that somebody is on the way to meet them. And Lestat probably knows who it is, he is strong enough to sense that."

Armand did not reply to this; he fell silent again, thought of how good it would be to see Lestat and Marius again, that it would bring some measure of normality back to his life. Sure, Marius would try to continue patronizing him, but Armand would tell him that this was not what he wanted. Perhaps Marius could understand.

Pandora's feet touched the ground, she turned around and Armand saw Santino land a few steps away from them. He had a tired expression on his face, but smiled a little as soon as he noticed Armand's gaze on him. Straightening his jacket, he came to Pandora, touched her shoulder briefly before he placed a quick kiss on her cheek. Armand was a little confused by this, it did not quite fit the picture he had of Santino. That the Italian vampire had changed since the time in the Roman coven five centuries ago was something Armand had accepted already, but adjusting to the thought that he could actually be friendly and loving would take some time.

"Shall we hunt together or split up?" Pandora asked, setting Armand down on his feet and casting away the blanket. He missed the warmth almost immediately.

"Together, I think. There is no need to part now," Santino answered, meeting her eyes.

Pandora nodded. "Alright. Armand, are you comfortable with hunting in company?"

"I am used to it." He had hardly been allowed to hunt on his own since he had returned to the coven after his escapade in the sun. Somebody had nearly always been with him; Marius most of the time, but also Lestat and Louis.

"I did not want to know if you are accustomed to it, I was asking if it bothers you to feed in the presence of others," Pandora clarified, giving him a critical look. Armand suspected that she knew rather well what he was thinking, even though he was sure she was not reading his mind.

Armand shrugged. "I don't like it a lot, but going off on my own does not seem the wisest thing right now." Besides, he did not like to be alone, that was becoming clear to him. After two nights he was so used to the presence of Pandora and Santino already that he did not want to miss it.

Another sharp look from Pandora, then she smiled and wrapped her arm around his waist. At first Armand wanted to shy away from the touch, but after the initial shock he thought it rather pleasurable. Santino was at his other side, not touching him though, and together they went to search for victims.

Only a few minutes passed until Pandora suddenly stopped, staring across the street at a bunch of teenagers, probably on the way home from wherever they had spent the evening. Armand dimly recalled that tonight was Saturday, so it was not surprising to meet young mortals in the streets at this time of the night.

"Make your choice," she whispered in his ear, then approached the group like a cat would move towards a mouse, all graceful and fluid. Armand watched in rapt fascination as she took the hand of one of the youths and led him into a side street. The others had not even noticed, so naturally had she moved. They were probably pretty drunk too. Santino followed her example, he chose a girl with bright green hair that made her look ridiculous in Armand's eyes. He, too, vanished in the shadows, leaving the stage to Armand.

He was not quite sure if he wanted to take an innocent tonight; but there would not be time for his usual hunting method, it would take too long to find somebody who wanted to die. He would have to settle for one of those teenagers if he wanted to feed. Sighing a little, he walked towards them, chose one of them at random, making sure that the others did not notice. Some mental dazzling, and they did not look in his direction. His victim, a girl with quite pretty features, smiled stupidly at him and squirmed in his arms.

"Hello handsome," she said, and Armand could smell the alcohol in her breath. "What's your name?"

"Death," he answered, and she giggled a little.

"Funny name for such a pretty guy like you."

Armand felt the smallest mental nudge in his mind; he understood and drew the girl into a tight embrace, his mouth at her neck, feeling the vein pulsing beneath his lips. When he sank his fangs into her flesh, she moaned a little, pressed her body against his. Through the blood he was swallowing he could feel the pleasure she was experiencing, she was thinking of her boyfriend, of making love with him. Armand had her trapped against a wall with his body, and she writhed against him, gasping at every draught he took.

Too soon did she die; drawing back, he let her body sink to the ground. The blood warmed his limbs, made him feel much better than before. The weariness had lessened, and he felt somewhat calmer now that he was satiated. Blood was the best thing to soothe vampiric nerves.

He patted the pockets of the girl, found some money and an ID card, which he immediately tore into shreds and dropped into the sewer. Better make this look like she had been killed for her money, he thought when he pricked his index finger and erased the puncture wounds in her neck.

When he looked up, he found Santino watching him in silence, in his hand a small flick knife that he had probably taken from his victim. Bending down, Santino slit the jugular of the girl in one quick motion. Armand nodded in agreement, the wound would explain the blood loss.

"Finished, gentlemen?" Pandora appeared at Santino's side. They both nodded. "Then let's go on, they are waiting for us."

With those words she scooped up Armand in her arms and took to the air, Santino following them closely.  
***

Treason: Chapter 10 - Quod Me Nutrit Me Destruit  
***

Daniel was attempting to get a fire going, under his breath cursing the intricacies of getting coal fires to burn. For the better part of an hour he had been trying, and Marius found himself mildly amused by watching the young vampire's efforts. He wondered when Daniel would notice that all he had to do was shoving some paper under the coals to have them catch fire.

They had moved from the hotel to Lestat and Louis' flat at Rue Royal; Lestat had offered them his hospitality, knowing that the suite would be too small to accommodate three more vampires. He and Louis had still not returned from hunting, but Marius did not really worry about that. They needed some time to themselves, and they would not have a lot of privacy now that they had guests.

Marius had been scanning for the three travelers himself for some time now; he could not sense Pandora or Armand, of course, but Santino he could feel clearly. He would not have thought that detecting the Italian vampire would be that easy, but perhaps Marius was being allowed to find him. They were close already, it would not take them much longer to reach New Orleans. Soon Marius could hold Armand in his arms again, could hear Pandora's sweet voice.

"Damn!" Daniel suddenly shouted. "I thought I had those blasted coals burning this time!" Marius smiled as he watched Daniel brush a strand of blond hair out of his face, unconsciously smearing coal dust over his forehead.

"You do not have to light a fire," Marius remarked. "It is warm enough in here."

"I don't care whether it is cold or not, this is personal." Daniel lighted a match and held it to a coal lump. He would hardly give up.

"Shall I help you?" Marius offered.

"Thanks, I know how to light - ow!" Daniel had not paid attention to the match in his hand, and it had burned his fingers.

Marius looked at him worriedly. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Daniel replied, licking the blisters on his fingers. Marius caught himself staring at the tip of the pink tongue, and quickly looked away.

"You must be careful with handling fire." Marius hoped that the young vampire would give up his futile attempts, he did not want to see Daniel hurt himself seriously. He was so young still, could be badly burnt in just a few moments.

Daniel nodded and again reached for the matchbox.

"I know, I know. Don't worry, I won't immolate myself in Lestat's living room." He met Marius' eyes and grinned. "He'd be mad at me for making a mess on his carpet."

Marius laughed politely, though he did not think this very funny. The fire was going out again, Daniel bit down a curse. When he tried once again to ignite the coals, Marius helped a little with his mind, careful to make it look as if Daniel had managed on his own to get the fire going. The tiny flame flickered, but this time did not die again. Soon the first lumps of coal were burning brightly and radiating warmth.

Getting to his feet, Daniel came over to take a seat on the big sofa opposite the armchair Marius was occupying. He moved as if he meant to prop his feet up on the low table, but then appeared to remember that this was not proper behavior in somebody else's house. Instead he leaned back, one ankle on the other knee, and smiled at Marius warmly.

"When will they be here?" he asked.

"A few minutes, I believe," Marius answered, trying not to show his nervousness. He felt so excited, as if he would get a present and could hardly wait to hold it in his hands. This had to be the way mortal children felt at Christmas, when they saw the gifts under the tree and were not allowed to open them. Armand was Marius' present, wasn't he? A present from chance and luck.

"I see." Daniel stared across the room, out of the window. He had soot on his hands, streaks of it also on his cheeks and forehead; it made him look so young, so natural. Marius could imagine him sitting at a campfire, looking like that. He hoped that Daniel would not lose that tint of normality, of mortality for a long time.

Something was not quite right, Daniel did not sound at all happy that Armand would be back. Marius knew that things were not well between them, he remembered their talk at the hotel rather vividly, but it seemed strange to him that Daniel was not at least relieved that his maker was still alive.

"Daniel, about you and Armand..." He was interrupted almost immediately.

"Don't say anything. I said I would talk to him."

"Alright." Marius just hoped that Daniel was serious about that talk.

"Just give me time, okay?" Daniel was facing him now, gave him a pleading look that reminded Marius how young he still was. No experience yet, he was still living his first lifetime, and that completely on his own. He should have company, somebody to guide him through those first years, to help him with the problems that would inevitably come.

For Marius it was difficult to understand why Armand had abandoned his fledgling so soon. He had  
experienced himself what it meant for a young one to have to survive on his own, without the aid of his creator. When Marius had first learnt that Armand had made a child, he had been sure that Daniel would have the love and attention a fledgling needed. Now Marius knew that something had gone wrong there.

Leaving his chair, Marius went over to one of the windows from where he could see the porch. He felt a little embarrassed to be waiting like this for the arrival of his beloved child, but he wanted to see Armand as soon as possible. In the glass of the window Marius saw his own reflection, and only when he leaned closer he could see what was outside, the flagstone sidewalk that formed waves where tree roots cracked to the surface, the small, expensive-looking red sports car that parked directly opposite. Louis had mentioned once that one of their neighbors owned a Ferrari and had made a habit of doing quick starts in the middle of the night. Marius assumed that this was the car he had been talking of.

A squirrel hopped across the street, holding something in its tiny mouth. Marius smiled, it reminded him of the countless animals he had kept in his life. Cats, dogs, horses, birds, that had only been some of the more common creatures that had been his companions.

Perhaps he should get himself a pet again, they had nearly always brought joy into his life. A dog would be right, he could not keep a cat in case Lestat came visiting and brought Mojo. Yes, he would go and get himself a dog, one of those beautiful copper-colored Irish setters.

"They won't come earlier if you hypnotize the window, you know," Daniel remarked from the couch. Marius turned to face him, smiling a little and ignoring the jibe.

"I was merely looking outside."

"Of course." Daniel cast him a quick grin, looking absolutely enticing, and glanced at his blackened hands. "Damn! Couldn't you have told me that I made a mess of myself?"

Marius smiled at him apologetically. "I am sorry."

"It's alright. Just tell me where the bathroom is."

"Upstairs, the first door to the left." Marius was a little surprised that Daniel did not know this, but then remembered that it was not very likely that the young vampire had ever seen more of the flat than the front hall and the parlor.

"Thanks. I'll be right back." Daniel got up from the couch and left the room; Marius could hear him walk up the stairs, some of the steps creaked a little.

He continued to look out of the window, watched a couple of mortals pass the house. They were talking, the woman describing something to her companion, using her hands to emphasize some details with elaborate gestures. The man at her side nodded understandingly, tilted his head to the side as if asking a question, which she seemed to answer immediately.

The scene strongly reminded Marius of Pandora; she had always talked like that, using her whole body to describe things. Marius had loved to watch her delicate white hands when she had tried to convince him of something; her fingers would constantly be in motion, not calm for a single second. And the more heated their argument would become, the more quickly her hands would move.

He could envision her so easily, the beautiful face, the brown eyes that could be so full of irony when she mocked him. The feeling of her soft hair under his fingers, the unique, sweet scent of her. He was happy that she was still alive, that he had not lost her to the centuries.

A motion below snapped him out of his thoughts; his eyes widened when he saw that it was Pandora  
herself who was grinning at him from the outside, and motioning for him to open the door. Looking to the side, he saw Armand, his Armand standing on the porch, whole and unharmed, Santino a few paces behind him.

Marius rushed into the front hall, unlocked the door as swiftly as he could, and drew his old child into a tight embrace, not wanting to let go ever again.  
***

In silence Santino watched as Marius wrapped his arms around Armand. The Roman had certainly missed his child, that much was sure now. Santino felt a little relieved, he had feared that Marius might be reserved and controlled as always. This free display of emotions was not something he had seen very often, but then again he had not spent much time in the company of Marius either.

Pandora had already stepped inside the flat, she was taking off her jacket and placing it on the coat stand right now. Santino followed her example, it would probably take Marius some time to really notice their presence. It felt good to be out of the thick, heavy coat, the garment had been restricting his movements quite a lot, but it was either that or freezing during the entire flight.

"Are you going to stay outside?" Pandora asked, watching as Marius slowly loosened his embrace around Armand. He did not let go of his fledgling completely, though.

"No... of course not," Marius answered, gradually noticing that he had been ignoring Pandora and Santino completely.

"Very well." Pandora smiled, then went to hug him, thus forcing him to release Armand. Santino strongly suspected that she was not doing that only out of affection for Marius, but also to free Armand, who might not have liked that closeness in front of others.

"I am glad to see you, Pandora," Marius said quietly, embracing her more tightly for a moment before he let her go. "I missed you, I wish you would not have left." Santino wondered whether Marius meant that she should have stayed, or that she should not have left with him.

She laughed, handing her scarf to Marius. "You know that it was for our own good. If I had stayed, we would have been at each other's throat in no time."

"Perhaps you are right." Marius turned away from her, and seemed to notice Santino for the first time.

"Good evening, Marius." He held out his hand, and Marius took it after hesitating just a little too long, making Santino sigh inwardly. Maybe the Roman had forgiven him for what had happened in the past, but there still were a few unresolved issues between them, Pandora being one of them. Marius had never said anything, but Santino knew rather well that he did not like it much to think of his first love and fledgling traveling with the man who had caused him so much pain  
once. But Marius had never said anything, they were polite to each other always.

Marius led the way into the parlor, Armand being the last to follow him. A fire was burning in the fireplace, radiating pleasant heat. Santino enjoyed it, everything warm was nice after being up in the cold air for several hours. He looked around, this was the first time that he had entered Lestat and Louis' home. Very tastefully furnished, he thought, though a little old-fashioned. Presumably Louis' influence, though the stereo equipment and the CD stacks in one  
of the corners had certainly been added by Lestat.

Some paintings were scattered over the walls; a few were of rather well-known painters, and Santino assumed that they were not copies. Lestat surely knew where to look for originals. One of William Turner's paintings was placed in a corner, showing a ship gradually vanishing in the mist. A small one right above an oleander with white blooms looked suspiciously like the Miró that had been stolen from the Prado some years ago, and which had not yet been recovered. One drawing seemed to be of Louis, and Santino could make out Marius' signature in the bottom right corner. Briefly he wondered if it had been painted from memory, or if Louis had actually been sitting for the portrait.

"Lestat and Louis are not here?" Pandora asked, taking a seat on the couch. Santino settled down between her and the armrest, waiting for Marius' answer about their hosts' whereabouts.

"They went out to hunt together. We agreed that it is not safe for any of us to be alone until we know more about that mysterious attacker." A shadow of pain crossed Marius' face, Santino could see how much it had hurt him to lose two of his fledglings.

Pandora shook her head, then looked straight at Marius. "We know already who is responsible for the fire in your house among other things."

"Who? Pandora, you have to tell me!" Marius rose to his feet and had crossed the room in an instant to stand in front of her, a pleading look on his face. Santino wondered how he would take it to hear of David's and Eric's deaths, and to find out that Maharet had killed Sybelle and Benji. Not very well, he decided.

"Later, Marius. Lestat and Louis need to know too, and I am not willing to explain everything twice."

Santino frowned slightly; Louis knew who had attacked them, he had been there. Still Lestat and Marius seemed to have no idea, and they had not questioned Louis about it, or at least not received an answer. Very strange. Santino could imagine that Lestat did not want to press his beloved fledgling for answers, but that Marius had not found anything was surprising.

"I will wait then," Marius said and went to Armand, who was sitting in one of the armchairs. He knelt down in front of him and took his hands. "It is enough for me to know that you are not hurt, cherub."

Armand uneasily shifted position, he did not look very happy about having Marius' attention. But Marius did not notice, or did not care; again he drew his fledgling into a tight embrace, holding him while Armand did not respond at all. It was obvious that things were not going very well between them, though Santino could not think of a reason for it. He would have to wait and see.

The noise of somebody bound down the stairs made Santino turn around to see who was coming. A moment later Daniel's face appeared.

"So you all are here," he said simply and came into the parlor. There was no seat left for him, so he sat down next to Pandora, leaning back comfortably. Always at ease, the fledgling. Santino had not seen him very often, but never had Daniel appeared to be distressed by anything. It had been amazing to see his curiosity and calmness when the Mother had threatened to destroy them all; the young vampire probably had not even grasped that all their lives had been at stake then.  
So carefree, this one. Santino wondered if his nonchalance was a result of his stupidity or his  
intelligence.

A movement caught Santino's attention; Armand had half risen from his seat, and gently freeing himself from Marius, he came over to the couch, standing in front of Daniel and just looking at him. Santino wondered what would happen now, if they would fight. He knew that there were a few unresolved issues between Armand and his fledgling, perhaps it was time for them to talk through them, have a roaring fight and then get along again. But no matter what had been Armand's intention, Daniel showed initiative and simply hugged his maker. Armand smoothly flowed to sit on his lap, his head against Daniel's shoulder, embracing him tightly.

"I cannot express how glad I am that you are alright," he murmured, his words muffled. "No matter what happened, I need to know that you are still around."

Daniel bent down to place a kiss on Armand's scalp. "I will always be here, my demon familiar."

The answer to this was something that sounded suspiciously like a strangled sob, and Santino suddenly had the impression that they were watching something very private here. Slowly he rose, seeing that Marius had already left the room. Only Pandora did not seem to be about to leave those two alone; she had always thought that discretion was for other people. When Santino reached for her hand and pulled her with him, she followed only reluctantly, shooting him rather annoyed glances. But she closed the door to the parlor as soon as they had left the room.  
***

It felt so good to be close to Daniel again, Armand thought as he made himself comfortable in his fledgling's arms. He was aware that the others had left the room, but he would not have cared if they had stayed, his attention was focused on Daniel, leaving no place to notice anything else. His looks, his scent, the sound of his heartbeat were filling Armand's senses, and he was content with it. With the fire burning brightly in the fireplace and the silence that surrounded them, Armand felt strangely comforted. This was what a home was supposed to be like, wasn't it? Warmth, peace, and the closeness of somebody who loved you. Well, at least Armand could be sure about the warmth and the peace. Two out of three was not that bad.

"Are you alright?" Daniel asked, a tint of worry in his voice. Armand smiled a little, his behavior seemed to be quite strange in Daniel's eyes, or at least unexpected.

"I am. Now I wonder why everybody asks me that question."

"Because we all worry about you." Daniel's arms tightened around Armand as he leant back on the  
couch again. "When we couldn't find you, we thought that you..." He stopped, meeting Armand's eyes.

"That I was dead," Armand finished calmly.

"Yes."

"I am alive and not hurt. You don't have to be concerned."

Daniel sighed, and shifted his position again, drawing Armand with him. They were lying sprawled on the couch now, their heads on one of the armrests.

"How could I not be concerned when you were nearly killed?"

Armand frowned, he did not like the way this talk seemed about to take. If Daniel wanted to play the protective and loving fledgling, he would have to find another protégé, because Armand did not feel at all like being mothered. Not by Daniel or Marius, at least.

"So this is all about my life being in danger?" he said, a little more sharply than he had intended. "For years you did not consider it necessary to do as much as visit me from time to time, and now you come running?"

"Armand-" Daniel started, but was interrupted again.

"Do I have to die to get your attention?" He fixed a cold gaze on Daniel, not yet moving out of his arms.

"But of course not!"

"Ah, I remember. You did not come after I stepped into the sun. Not even my death is important enough for you to remember me."

It was Daniel who left the couch first. He stood, and began pacing the room, an angry expression on his face.

"Are you done with your accusations?"

Armand raised an eyebrow. "So this offends you?"

A frustrated growl was the answer.

"Did you ever love me at all? Did you ever care about me, or was all that interested you the immortality I could give you?"

"You are driving me mad, Armand!"

"Is that a yes or a no?" Armand knew he was pushing it, and yet he felt good. To be talking like this was relieving, he had been denied fights for too long. Careful to maintain his blank expression, he watched as Daniel grew more and more nervous.

"Why are you asking these questions?"

He smiled a little, an exactly measured smile, without any humor. "Because I should have asked them a long time ago. When you were dying of your stupidity and your beloved alcohol, I should have questioned your motives for begging me to make you my child."

"So you think I only wanted you for your blood? I can't believe that you would think that."

"But you make me think it." Armand moved into a sitting position again. "After you became a vampire, you left, as if there were nothing to hold you to me. And you did not seem to care much about me in the years that came."

"If you had told me to stay, I would not have left."Daniel stopped his pacing and met Armand's eyes. "But I did not have the impression that you wanted to have me close."

"You would not have stayed with me," Armand replied calmly. "You know very well that you would have left,no matter if I had wanted you to be with me or not. Don't lie to me."

"Did you ever wonder why I left?" Daniel asked, his voice sounding bitter. He regarded Armand for a moment, then continued. "No, of course you did not. You were not interested in me at all."

"I gave you the freedom you needed."

"If that is what you want to believe, fine. But I did not mean anything to you. I lost my fascinating mortality, it was the only thing about me that interested you. And as soon as it was gone, you pushed me away."

Armand could not believe what he had just heard. "Are you implying that it was my fault that things went bad between us? You were the one who disappeared one night, not me!"

"And I left because of you, because you did not care at all about me. I could have died without you batting an eyelid!"

"How dare you say that! I gave you everything you could possibly want!"

"But never what I asked for. You had me begging for your blood for a decade, I was not going to plead for your love as well, that would have been too much." He fixed Armand with a cold glance. "You drove me away, as you alienate everybody around you. So don't blame me when you don't have anybody to love you."

Helplessly Armand watched as Daniel left the room, slamming the door shut. He had not meant to do this; all he had been intending had been one of the familiar brawls, not a fight. Now Daniel was hurt, and it was Armand's fault this time. Sighing, he curled up on the couch, hugging his knees. This should not have happened. Not now, not when he needed the comfort that was offered in the closeness of the others.

Armand could not help wondering if there was any truth in his fledgling's words. After turning Daniel into a vampire, he had gradually let the young one go. Had this attempt at giving Daniel his freedom been interpreted as a ceasing interest? It seemed so, from what the fledgling had said. Armand was ready to admit that he had not always been as caring and loving as he could have been, but still there was no need for Daniel to think that he meant nothing to his maker.

No, it was not his fault that Daniel had left him years ago.

But still he felt horribly guilty about it.  
***

At the sound of a door being slammed shut Pandora blinked and looked towards the parlor. From her place at the kitchen table she could not see the entire hallway without craning her neck uncomfortably, but it was enough to catch a glimpse of Daniel leaving the living room. Frowning, she watched as he yanked his coat off the hook in the wall and stomped out into the night.

This was not good. Not at all.

Marius and Santino did not seem to have noticed his leaving, they were still discussing something about a few of the Talamasca's new investigators. She should probably be grateful, Pandora thought, that they were talking to each other. As long as they worried about security matters, the two men could work together. They just needed to have something that distracted them from the more personal issues, though they weren't exactly hostile towards each other. All that could be noticed was a polite coldness, and the tension that was never completely released when they were in the same room.

"Daniel has left," Pandora stated, waiting for any reactions.

"I suppose he has a reason for doing it," Santino replied calmly, meeting her eyes. "It's not as if he is not allowed to leave whenever he wants."

She shot him a slightly annoyed glance for that answer; it was not at all what she had wanted to hear.

"He was talking with Armand, perhaps he needs time to think about a few things." His hands resting on the table, Marius leaned back in his chair.

"What do you mean, think about a few things? What is there to think about?"

"Pandora, you know what I mean."

"I believe not," she replied, a tint sharper than she had intended to sound. Somehow Marius always managed to stir the impatience in her; she wanted to know what he was talking of, and not guess what he could mean with his words.

"Daniel was quite reluctant to talk with Armand..."

"And?" One delicate eyebrow raised inquiringly, Pandora fixed her gaze on Marius.

"I told him that he should speak to his maker about the problems between them so that..."

Pandora reached out and smacked him.

"I can't believe that you were that stupid! Don't you have the slightest feeling for the right moment to do such things?"

Rubbing his cheek, Marius gave her a hurt look, his blue eyes clouded with confusion. For a moment he looked exactly like the young vampire he had been when he had made her, not quite sure if what he was doing really was the right thing. The same sweet expression on his face... Pandora pushed the nostalgic thoughts back and reminded herself that she was angry at him.

"You don't understand, do you?"

The only response was a shy shaking of the blond-haired head.

"Of course not. You never try to understand. Didn't it cross your mind that Armand isn't in the best condition to talk after the last few nights? He hasn't had enough sleep and he did not feed enough, and he has been under an extreme physical strain. I won't even mention what he went through emotionally. Did you really think he could take a talk with Daniel right now?"

"I only wanted to help them, they had to talk at some point..."

"At some point, but not now! I can imagine rather well how that discussion went. Daniel started to say something, Armand snapped an answer, and already they were in the middle of a nasty argument. Marius, that was as predictable as the sun coming up in the morning."

He met her eyes again, and she had to force herself to remain firm. That look always made her anger melt if she did not concentrate properly.

"Perhaps it was a mistake. But you can't say that it was completely wrong."

"Pardon me? Daniel has just stormed out of the house, and Armand is brooding in the parlor. How can that not be completely wrong? Don't tell me this is what you were aiming for."

"They talked, after all."

"And hurt each other."

"I didn't intend that to happen."

"That doesn't change anything," Pandora replied, holding Marius' gaze still. She would not be the first to look away.

"What do you expect me to say now? That I regret advising Daniel to try and mend things with Armand?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. But I really thought your feeling for such matters would have improved during the last two millennia."

"It was not my fault that we fought so often."

"Blame it on me, will you?" Pandora shot him a sarcastic smile. "Of course it was my fault, who else's? Certainly not yours, the noble Marius never made a mistake in his entire life."

"You have to admit that you were stubborn often enough."

"And you were ignoring me and my opinions when you thought you were right. But that's not the point now. Will you just let that fledgling walk the streets until he ruefully returns in the morning, or are you going to look for him?"

"Why should I go and search him?"

"You want another smack?"

"Peace, Pandora. I am on my way already." Marius got to his feet. "And I expect explanations for everything that happened in the last nights when I bring the young one back." With this he left the room, closing the door.

Pandora shook her head, laughing a little. "Now I know why I missed him. He is just too sweet when he starts to feel guilty."

She cast Santino a quick look. He had remained silent during the exchange, and she was grateful for it. When she argued with Marius, she didn't appreciate interruptions from other people, and though Santino had never witnessed one of their banterings, he had been sensible enough to remain neutral. But she was sure that he had an opinion about the whole affair. Something she was equally sure about was that he would not agree completely with her. Santino never entirely agreed with anybody, and Pandora had accepted it after some time. When she had asked him, he had just said that he did not like to take sides if not absolutely necessary.

"If I did not know that you weren't in England at the time, I'd say that Shakespeare took you and Marius as models for some of his comedies," Santino stated, his face a blank. "Much Ado about Nothing, indeed."

"So you think I should not have been angry at him for messing with Armand and Daniel?"

He shook his head, his eyes closed. Pandora knew that movement, Santino always closed his eyes when he was thinking on how to deliver his opinions without offering her possibilities to argue them.

"I agree with you that now is not the right time for a little match-making. I also agree with sending Marius after Daniel to have him talk some sense into the fledgling. But it was not necessary at all that you became so... arrabbiata, indignant at him."

Sighing just a little, Pandora smiled at him. "I know. But fighting with Marius brings back so many memories." Contentedly she noticed that Santino was smiling too, not his usual sarcastic smile, but a real, friendly smile.

"Watching you two makes me wonder why you did not kill each other within a week after your making."

Pandora laughed. "I suppose Marius feared that my ghost would haunt him for all eternity if he did."

"What a frightening idea."

She glared at him, knowing that her eyes were glittering with laughter. "Watch it."

"I was only commenting on the thought of being haunted by you forever."

"So you would not want it?"

"I would not want you to haunt Marius. If you haunted me, it would be a completely different matter."

Smiling warmly, Pandora left her seat to stand behind Santino, her arms loosely around his shoulders. He tilted back his head, and she brushed her lips over his mouth, feeling her chin touch his nose slightly.

"When Marius is back, I suppose I will have to apologize."

"That might not be a bad idea."

"And Armand?"

"What do you mean?"

She rubbed her cheek against his, the stubble of his beard lightly scratching against her skin. "Are you going to talk with him, or shall I? Marius is already taking care of Daniel, that leaves Armand to us."

"I think you should go. Somehow I doubt that I am the right person to advise Armand when it comes to his relationships."

Pandora nodded. "Alright. Stay here, will you?"

"Of course. I'll entertain myself with Lestat's pots until you are back. Now go, before Armand decides that he wants to vanish for a century to think things through."  
***

The fire in the grate was no longer burning, the flames had gone out after they had no longer had any nourishment. Only the coals were still glowing, bright orange-red that stood in a sharp contrast to the blackened bricks and iron of the fireplace. Right above the embers the air was flirring in the heat.

Armand did not look up when he heard the door to the parlor being opened. He knew that it was not Daniel who was entering the room, he knew the sound of his fledgling's footfall well enough to be sure of that. And Daniel was the only person he wanted to talk to right now, so there was no need to bother and see who was coming. Instead he continued staring at the glowing coals and the distorted air that hovered above them. If he ignored the other one long enough, he would surely be left alone again.

"May I sit down?" Pandora's voice; he should have known that it would be her who checked upon him. She was the only one who appeared to care a little about him at all. He did not acknowledge her presence still but closed his eyes, leaning his head against the backrest. The rustling of clothes interrupted the silence for a moment. Armand had the distinct feeling that he was being stared at. Briefly he wondered what she was doing here, then decided that it probably had nothing to do with him. Most likely she had come to warm her limbs at the fire.

Eventually he gave up his motionlessness and cracked one eye open. Pandora was sitting on the Isfahan carpet right in front of him, her legs stretched out. She was regarding him calmly while running one delicate hand through her hair, untangling the dark curls. Armand found himself drawn to that hand, he watched as brown strands brushed over white skin. A goddess made of bleeding marble, he thought, wasn't that the term he had used to describe her to David? It was fitting rather well, though he had yet to see a statue of a goddess with such a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"Do you want me to go?" she asked, continuing to look at him.

He did not want to answer this question, so he remained silent and watched her hand. He would have liked to feel her hair beneath his fingers.

"You are not making this easy, little one." Pandora rose to her feet in one graceful move and took a few steps towards the door.

Slowly he turned his head so she would not get out of his sight. Carefully maintaining the blank expression on his face, he observed her as she reached out for the door handle.

"Stay," he suddenly said, his voice hoarse. Clearing his throat he continued, "please." He was not quite sure why he was requesting this.

"If that is what you want." Smiling a little, Pandora resumed her position on the carpet and looked at him expectantly. She appeared so young, the way she drew one leg up and rested her chin on her knee. Armand wondered how old she had been when Marius had made her his fledgling. It was impossible to estimate when he looked at her face, she could have been anything from twenty to fifty.

"It's not very polite to question the age of a lady," she said. Hurriedly Armand shielded himself, he did not feel comfortable at all at the thought that she had read him so effortlessly. He reminded himself to pay more attention to veiling his mind, he did not want her to snoop around in his thoughts. The slight grin that hushed over her face for a moment told him that she had caught this as well.

They both remained silent, and Armand avoided her gaze, staring at the embers again. Her presence was soothing and disturbing at the same time, he could not quite decide if he wanted her to be in the same room with him or not. There was a certain unrest surrounding her, she radiated agitation. It was hard for him to imagine Pandora being calm and collected, she seemed more the excited, vivacious type. And yet she had been not much more than a walking statue mere years ago. Difficult to believe that he was looking at the apathic shadow from the past and saw her sparkling with life.

"When you are done with trying to categorize me, may I ask you a question?"

Armand flinched involuntarily, he had not noticed that his contemplations had been that obvious. Hopefully she was not offended. Slowly he nodded, and waited for her to continue.

"What happened in here that it made Daniel run out of the house and sent you into a brooding mood?" It would have been hard to ask a less direct question. At least Armand could not think of one, though he would not put it behind Pandora to find an even blunter way to question him.

"We talked, we fought, we parted."

"Stop trying to imitate Julius Caesar. I want details." Armand frowned a little, he did not like this kind of interrogation at all. "And don't frown, or you'll get wrinkles on your forehead."

Armand had been about to snap an answer when he heard her last comment. A sudden quiet giggle escaped him, but he immediately let the indifferent mask fall back into place. If he had to talk about this, he needed to try and keep his feelings out of it to remain objective.

"You really want to know?" When she nodded, Armand sighed resignatedly and continued. "Daniel was concerned about my well-being. I became edgy, and that in turn made him angry." He hugged his legs tightly. "He accused me of pushing him away, and then left." Raising his head, he met Pandora's eyes. "I made the same mistake once again."

"What mistake?"

"I let the opportunity pass to really talk to him."

Pandora shook her head. "Perhaps Daniel did not want to talk."

"Don't blame it on him, it was not his fault that we fought," Armand replied sharply.

"But it wasn't yours alone either. It takes two to fight, so don't try and claim all responsibility."

"It was my responsibility."

"It was not."

"How can you decide that? You did not witness our argument."

"Do you really think I have never seen anything similar in my life?" Pandora asked, her voice growing constantly more agitated. "Those patterns always repeat themselves. You managed to hurt each other, and now you are frightened to confess that you are sorry. Believe me, I am experienced on that matter."

"You are right, patterns repeat themselves. I always push away those who offer me their love," Armand stated quietly.

Pandora gasped, startled. "Pardon me? Where did you get that nonsense from?"

"Daniel said it. And he is right."

"And you are a fool if you believe it," Pandora said with a determination that made Armand wonder how Marius had been able to resist that tone. She sounded so convincing. "Young one, get rid of that fixed idea in your head that you are not worthy of anything."

"What if I can't? What if it is the truth?"

"Why would I be here if I did not think you deserve attention?"

"Attention, yes. Like an specimen that has to be watched."

"I am expressing myself badly." Pandora paused for a moment. "You matter, Armand. You matter to me, to Marius, to Daniel, to all of us. And only because somebody is angry at you it does not mean that he does not care about you. Do you understand what I am trying to say?"

"Yes." It was so easy to drown in her words, to believe for a while that Pandora was right. Sure, he would soon enough realize that the real world was not as she described it, that the others did not care much about what happened to him. But for a while it was soothing to think of himself as being welcomed and wanted. Pandora smiled at him, and he caught himself smiling back shyly.

"I would like to offer you something," she said suddenly. "It is up to you if you want to take it or not."

Armand gave her a questioning look as he nodded in response, silently preparing himself for whatever would come now.

A serious expression on her face, Pandora held out her hand, palm turned upwards. "Let me be your friend, Armand."

He did not know what to say. He wanted to take up the offer, oh how he wanted it. But at the same time a tiny voice whispered that he must not, that doing this was wrong and would only present a possibility to hurt him. But Pandora seemed so honest about it, Armand found it hard to imagine that she would deceive him about her motives. She might really be willing to give him her friendship, and then he would disappoint her in declining. But he was afraid of taking that step, horribly afraid. It meant to go out of his usual way and allow somebody to come close to him. Yet had not Daniel accused him of being unable to do exactly that? Perhaps it was time to try and change, at least in this regard.

Strangely enough he trusted her, not completely but to a larger extent than he had trusted most people in his life. Marius had held his absolute confidence, and it had hurt Armand to be finally forced to see that his faith in his maker had been too strong. After Marius, he had been careful not to rely on anybody. Santino, Lestat, Louis, Daniel, they had all left him sooner or later, neither of them had been willing to remain his companion for a longer time. And those relationships had led Armand to believe that trust was dangerous and a weakness he could not afford.

When he looked at Pandora, he felt a tentative touch in his mind. Commanding himself not to shy back, Armand allowed her to carry on with whatever she was planning, all the time ready to slam his shields firmly in place again. But she did not seem to be about to read his thoughts; instead she let Armand inside her own head, showing him what had prompted her to propose such an offer. Now he was confirmed that she was not playing games with him, but that she really meant what she had said.

"Yes," he whispered. Her hand was still held out, and he moved to take it. Something was holding him back, slowed down his movements. An invisible barrier that became harder and harder to stretch, until it finally ripped open and he felt Pandora's hand enclose around his.  
***

Treason: Chapter 11 - Council Of War  
***

The small clay pot with African violets flew from its place on the windowsill towards the kitchen table. Just before touching the wood, the plant slowly ascended and circled the lamp twice before it slowed down to a complete halt right above the hearth. For a moment it hovered there, then the pot was suddenly accelerated and shot at the window, only to be stopped as it touched the glass. The plant still looked rather well, it had only lost a few purple petals, now decorative bits of color on the white tiles of the kitchen floor.

Santino was feeling bored. He had not been able to find a single book in the entire kitchen. There had to be a library somewhere in the house, he was sure about that, but he could not just go and search for it. Santino did not want people to explore his home without his knowledge, and he assumed that Lestat and Louis felt similar. So he had been playing around with those violets during the last few minutes, sending them flying through the room. Admittedly he felt a little childish as he let the plants circumnavigate the table as if they were satellites, but at least it gave him something to do. Besides it was a possibility to train his mental abilities. Not that Santino really expected that he would ever have to make flowers fly for any reason, but one could never be completely sure.

He was just letting the pot spin quickly around on its own axis when he suddenly felt a presence and at the same time heard the door to the garden being unlocked. Warily he set the flower down on the counter, trying to see who was approaching. Santino hoped that it was just Lestat, or maybe Marius returning with Daniel; he tried to scan for the new arrival, but only encountered a perfect blank. Maharet would not dare and attack them here, would she? Surely she was not that stupid. But on the other hand her actions could not be called reasonable or rational lately. The door swung open, and Santino tensed, only to relax again when he recognized the visitor.

"You were the last person I would have expected to show up here," he said, nodding a quick welcome. "I thought you would try and stay out of this whole mess."

"I would have preferred that." Khayman closed the door again before he sat down at the table, right opposite Santino. "But I could not watch any longer."

"So you know what has been happening."

"Yes." Khayman's expression spoke of deep regret.

"Do you understand her?"

"I thought I did, but now I am not sure about it anymore." He looked at Santino calmly. "Better not to speculate about her motives."

Santino bowed his head slightly. "If you say so."

They both went silent, and Santino caught himself staring at the ancient vampire. Khayman's arrival he had not expected, and it disturbed him a little. When Maharet's actions had stirred even his attention, the situation had to be truly bad. Other than Marius, Khayman did not usually involve himself in matters between other vampires unless he thought it absolutely necessary. His presence did not seem a good omen to Santino right now.

Still he felt relief to know that Khayman had joined their ranks; the more vampires gathered, the safer they would be in case Maharet appeared. Santino was well aware that he could not be quite sure where Khayman's loyalties lay; after all he had deep feelings for Maharet. It was unlikely, though, that he would watch as others suffered from her hands.

"Where are the others?" Khayman asked, leaning back in his chair. "I sensed several presences in the city when I scanned."

"Lestat and Louis are out hunting," Santino replied. "Marius is out somewhere trying to talk some sense into Daniel, and Pandora is doing the same with Armand in the living room."

"There is nobody else here? I was hoping to meet Jesse again."

Santino shook his head quietly, which earned him a worried look from Khayman. "She is not dead, but she was hurt by Mekare it seems."

"Mekare? But how..."

"We will try to explain this chaos as soon as everybody has returned here. In fact, you could call Lestat and Marius and tell them that we are waiting for them."

Khayman nodded. "Of course."

Closing his eyes, Santino tried to think of nothing for a moment. Since he had seen David's ashes, he had been trying to understand what was going on, and was feeling more than weary already. There were so many possibilities to be considered, each of them twisting the complete picture in a slightly different way. It was wonderful to be able to clear his head of all those contemplations for once and to relax, even if it was only for a short time. But his mind involuntarily returned to the matter at hand sooner than he would have wanted.

It's too much, he thought. This was becoming far too complicated to be handled like one of the usual problems that occurred in the coven from time to time. Bloodshed among their own ranks could not be compared to the occasional fights and disagreements.

"I've told them to come," Khayman said.

"Thank you. I would not have wanted to call Marius."

"So the two of you still haven't got over that incident?"

Santino laughed quietly. "I doubt Marius would call it an incident."

"It's really about time that you forget about things that happened five centuries ago."

"Try to explain that to Marius." Santino stood and walked over to the window to look at the garden. "Not that I don't understand him; I'd be angry too if I were in his place. But most of the time we manage to ignore those old feuds and concentrate on the matter at hand."

Khayman gave him a look of mild curiosity. "Doesn't it bother you to look at him and think that you tried to immolate him once?"

"You are not asking easy questions," Santino opened the window a little to let in the night air. "If you don't mind, I would rather not discuss this now. It would take far too long to elucidate every aspect."

"I do not want to press you for the answer."

Santino looked at him gratefully; the last thing he wanted right now was discussing past events. Both Marius and he had learned to live with it, and Santino felt absolutely no need to go through the whole story once again.

"The answer to what?" Pandora had come into the kitchen, catching the last words. "Hello Khayman," she said as she spotted the ancient vampire. Armand followed right behind, his eyes never leaving her out of sight. He did not look as if something was bothering him, so Santino assumed that Pandora had been successful in her talk.

"Beautiful as always," Khayman smiled as Pandora kissed his cheeks. "It is wonderful to see you again." He also greeted Armand, who nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing.

"Flatterer." Pandora laughed softly, brushing her lips over Khayman's mouth before she took his hand and dragged him to his feet. "The others have returned, they are waiting in the parlor."  
***

It took some time until they were all settled more or less comfortably in the parlor. Marius had taken a seat on the couch, and beckoned Armand to come and join him, which the younger vampire reluctantly did. Daniel had already sat down at Marius' other side, while Khayman had been offered one of the two armchairs, the other one being occupied by Pandora, who had curled up into a compact ball already. Louis, Lestat and Santino settled on chairs brought from the dining room.

They all remained silent for a while, as if they needed to adjust to the closeness of so many of their kind. Louis let his gaze wander over the faces, which reflected the differences in their feelings rather clearly. Khayman looked pleased to be with others, while Santino's expression could only be described as discomfort. It surprised Louis more than just a little that the usually so controlled vampire was allowing his emotions to show. Armand was regarding everything calmly, his features not betraying his thoughts.

Louis did not feel comfortable at all; this meeting reminded him too much of the last gathering. Again they were coming together to debate how to secure their lives against the danger one of their kind presented to the others. It made him feel weary to think back to the endless talking, the countless tiny bits of information they had received. He did not want to go through that again, not so soon, not now. Deep inside he wished the others would leave him alone so he could rest in peace for a while and not be bothered by such secular things as threats to end their lives. Outwardly he concentrated on looking politely interested.

It was Lestat who broke the silence. "Well, will somebody tell me who tried to burn Louis?" How nice of Lestat to think of him, Louis thought. He seemed so desperate to have his revenge for endangering his fledgling.

Santino turned towards him. "Only if you promise not to tear off and kill that attacker."

"But Louis..."

"Was one of many who were affected by this," Santino finished for him. "Lestat, I want your word that you will stay here and listen before you act."

"I could just take the answer from your mind, and you could not do anything about that."

Santino did not even bother to answer. It was Khayman who met Lestat's gaze and shook his head gently.

"There is no need for such a thing, young one." Scowling at being called young one, Lestat slumped back on his seat. Louis allowed himself to relax, he had been fearing that Lestat might indeed force Santino to answer him.

"Now that this is settled, can we begin please?" Marius asked.

A long look passed between Pandora and Santino, and Louis could tell that they were silently communicating, probably debating who would be the one to talk. As far as Louis had gathered, those two knew most about what had happened, though he had not been paying much attention, and had not asked for more information. Ever after waking up in Lestat's arms in a hotel bed, Louis had tried to block out all thoughts of the fire and its consequences. Too many painful memories.

"Do you want to hear the story chronologically, or the way we found out about it?" So Pandora would be the spokesperson.

"I am not sure..." Marius replied, looking at the others for help. "Perhaps you can tell it from your point of view first, that might make it easier for us to understand."

She nodded. "Alright. Just interrupt if I am not specific enough." Looking at them all, she finally fixed her gaze on Lestat. "Santino and I met David in London. He behaved as usual when we saw him. We left for our apartment while David continued to roam the city. Suddenly he called for help." She shrugged. "When we arrived to where he had been calling from, he was reduced to ashes on the asphalt."

How could she say this as if she did not care about David at all? Louis had not spent much time with Lestat's youngest fledgling, but had known him well enough to feel deep pain to hear of his death. Quickly he looked at Lestat, expecting to see the tears flowing down his cheeks already. But the blond vampire was just staring down at the carpet as if he were studying the delicate patterns. He had been stradling his chair, and was clutching the wood of the backrest tightly. Louis could see that his knuckles were turning white.

"Who?" Lestat asked, his voice icy. "Who did that? Who dared to raise a hand against my fledgling?" His tone did not change once while he spoke.

"Maharet."

The outburst Louis had been dreading came now. Lestat jumped to his feet in a movement too fast for him to see, sending his chair tumbling to the floor.

"I'm going to waste that bitch!" He seemed to be about to storm out of the room, and Louis doubted that he could be stopped.

"So much about your promise to stay here and listen," Armand remarked quietly. "I knew you could not keep it."

Lestat fixed Armand with an angry glare. "Be quiet. You can't understand this!"

Armand raised one delicate eyebrow. "Of course not. She only burned the two beings I loved, and tried to kill me." Admirable self-control, Louis thought. He wondered how Armand managed to maintain the blank expression he wore, and how he felt beneath it.

"But this is different!"

"Oh yes?"

"She attempted to attack Louis!"

"Who is much more important than Sybelle and Benji could ever hope to be. Silly of me not to notice that."

Please, somebody step in and stop this, Louis prayed. He could not bear to listen to this any longer, it was tearing him apart.

"Silence," Khayman said calmly. "Both of you, be quiet. Lestat, sit down again." Lestat pouted for the second time within minutes, but did as he was told. "Pandora, are you sure that it was Maharet?"

She nodded. "Absolutely. We did not see her burn David," Lestat winced at the mention of his fledgling, "but from what she said when we spoke to her we could be sure that it was her doing."

"Which would be?"

"She believed that David was unworthy to live because he was made against the rules."

"What? How can she decide that?" Lestat shouted, about to leave his seat again. Louis reached out and touched his hand, but Lestat did not seem to notice at all.

"It is a little complicated," Santino answered him. "If we can believe Maharet's words..."

"I won't believe that murderous woman!" Lestat snarled.

"If we can believe her words, and I am rather sure that she spoke the truth, then Mekare has awakened," Santino continued, ignoring Lestat's interruption. "I don't know what exactly happened, but it appears that Mekare attacked her sister's fledglings. Jesse was hurt, and Eric is dead." A shadow crossed Santino's face; what had happened to his practically proverbial calmness? Louis shrugged mentally, he did not care.

"What about Mael?" Marius asked; he was probably concerned about his friend's well-being.

"Maharet did not mention him. I think he is alright, or she would have told us."

"What happened next?" Khayman had assumed the role of the chairman. "What else did Maharet say?"

This time Pandora answered again. "That she believed that Mekare was displeased with her, and that attacking her fledglings was intended to show her disapproval. Maharet apparently assumed that Mekare wanted her to enforce the rules."

"What rules?" Marius asked, glancing at Santino.

"Those we all agreed upon," Pandora said. Surely she had noticed that suspicious look. "No more books, no photographs, no videos. You know what I mean. Don't tell me that you believed we are talking of the coven laws."

"Of course not," the Roman replied just a little too quickly as Pandora cast him a warning glare.  
***

"Is that all?" Khayman asked. Pandora was glad that she had somebody to focus her attention on, his questions made it easier to go through her report in the right order.

She shook her head. "No. Maharet was implying that I had broken the rules as well in telling my story to David. Santino managed to convince her that I was not responsible for the publishing of the book." Well, Marius, still angry at him? "It did not work for Armand, unfortunately. We tried to explain to her that he was as innocent as I, but she would not listen. Then she left, and we rushed here as fast as possible to warn Armand and the young fledglings."

"But you were no match for Maharet's strength and speed, of course," Khayman stated.

"No. When we arrived in New Orleans, Marius' home was already ablaze. I found Armand and took him out of the house, but could not find any other survivours."

The others were silent, thinking about what they had been told. Pandora hoped that they would explain a few things to her, she did not understand all the connections yet. That Daniel was here had surprised her, she had not thought that she would see him again so soon. Khayman's presence was equally unexpected, the ancient vampire had to have a reason for coming to join them.

"Armand, you called me just before Maharet's attack?" Daniel asked, receiving a confirming nod from his maker. "I tried to reach David immediately after the connection to Armand and Louis was severed... Lestat, why did you answer the phone, by the way?"

Santino looked a little startled. "You were in London that night?"

"I was, yes. I flew to New Orleans after Daniel's call." Pandora assumed he would tell more, but all Lestat did was giving Louis a long look before he returned his attention to the discussion at hand. There surely was a story behind it, and she was sure that neither Lestat nor Louis would tell it without being forced.

"And I took the first plane I could get to come here," Daniel stated. "I must have just missed Pandora and Santino. Where did you two disappear to with Armand? We scanned for you the whole night."

"North," Pandora answered.

"Care to specify a little?"

"Far north," she said, smiling a little when she saw Daniel sigh exasperatedly. "Marius' old refuge."

"I thought there would nothing be left of it anymore," Marius whispered, more to himself than to her. Pandora felt sorry for him, everything connected to the rising of the Mother was still a sensitive spot. It had hurt him deeply that she had betrayed him after he had been her faithful caretaker for so long.

"Still enough to rebuild it if you want," Pandora said softly. "And enough to keep us safe and warm."

"So basically we know that Maharet is set on punishing all breakers of the law, and that she has traveled from India to Italy, then to London, and finally New Orleans," Khayman summarized. "She is following the night around the planet."

"She will have to sleep nevertheless," Armand stated. "But how do you know that she was in Italy?"

"Because two vampires died there last night, without any reason. I felt their passing, and the last image they saw was red hair. Their cries were too loud to block them out anymore."

Pandora understood what he meant; with age, the mind of a vampire became constantly more sensitive and finely tuned. She herself was able to shut out the voices if she shielded her mind, but the ability to hear others grew with the same speed as the strength of her defenses. And sometimes, when an especially loud and desperate cry echoed through the mental net that connected all of their kind, it was impossible to shut it out.

"Who died?" Santino asked.

"I did not know their names, but they were not fledglings anymore. One man and a woman, about your age."

Santino frowned a little, shaking his head. Pandora was not sure if he was feeling pain to hear of this or not; sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between anguish and satisfaction in his eyes.

"I believe I know them. Knew them," he corrected himself. "Not a very great loss, they were fools, thinking that nothing would ever change for them." His voice was not just cold but icy, it actually made Pandora shiver to hear him talk like that. She would have to ask him about those two later, when they were alone. She suspected that he would refuse to speak of them in the presence of the others; Santino disliked every talk of his less recent history intensely.

"Well, their identity does not matter." Khayman's expression showed that he had noticed the coldness too. "They must have broken the rules somehow."

"They did. Rather, he did. He imitated Lestat and the others and wrote down his story. It has been published a few months ago." Santino's voice made it clear that he would not talk any further of them.

Marius cleared his throat. "What about Mekare?"

Pandora let her gaze wander over the others' faces. Nobody seemed about to speak, nobody knew where she was. Once again had the ancient vampire disappeared, and they all knew that she had perfected the art of hiding herself. Perhaps this was not even bad, Pandora thought. If nobody knew where the source of their lives was, nobody could harm her.

"We could search for her," Lestat offered. He had calmed considerably since his outburst, but still was coiled up like a spring, ready to bolt at the first chance.

"You could not find me if I were shielding, and Mekare is stronger than I." Khayman shook his head. "Trust me, there is no use in trying. We will have to wait until she chooses to show herself."

"Do we lose anything if she goes to ground and never surfaces again?" Louis asked, mouthing Pandora's thoughts.

"Not really, no."

A bitter smile crossed Louis' face. "Then we should really leave it to her."

Daniel raised his hand, and Khayman motioned for him to speak. "How many of us died? Of the coven, I mean."

Pandora fought the urge to wring Daniel's neck. How could he ask such a tactless question when several of those present had lost a fledgling or a friend?

"Difficult to say. Eric and David we know for sure, as well as Sybelle and Benji." As Santino spoke, Armand's face grew dark. "Possibly Jesse, and we cannot be sure about Mael. The same about Gabrielle."

"What?" Lestat jumped to his feet for the second time this evening. "You are not implying that she is dead, are you?"

"Calm yourself, Lestat. I am just saying that we don't know. Or has anybody heard of her since she left New Orleans again?" They all shook their heads. "She probably did not give Maharet any reason to do away with her, but we cannot know it for sure."

Beginning to feel tired, Pandora uncurled in her seat to stretch her limbs. As if on cue, Armand barely suppressed a yawn, looking absolutely worn.

"I suggest we continue tomorrow night," Khayman said, giving her a warm smile which she returned gratefully. "Some of us need to sleep, even though there are a few questions that still have to be answered."

"Of course." Louis rose from his seat and seemed to consider something. "Lestat, can you show our guests to their rooms please?"

Nodding, Lestat left the parlor, all the others save Louis following him. While Marius and Daniel were right behind Lestat, Armand waited until Pandora and Santino passed him, then he rose and walked at her side. When she looked at Santino, she saw his smile as he gave up his place next to her and moved to talk with Khayman.

They stopped in the wide room at the top of the stairs, and Pandora looked at the many bookshelves admiringly. Louis and Lestat owned a considerable collection. Browsing through the titles, she saw that Lestat was counting them.

"Santino, Pandora, will you be sharing a room?"

"Of course," Pandora replied firmly, careful not to look at Marius.

"Alright, then you take this room." He pointed at one of the wooden doors. "Khayman, would you mind sleeping in Louis' place?" The ancient vampire shook his head. "Perfect. Now we only have one problem."

"Which would be?" Marius asked.

"How to fit three vampires into two rooms. I don't want to put anybody into David's room, it just doesn't seem right..." Lestat's voice trailed off.

"We would not ask this of you, Lestat." Marius draped his arm around the younger vampire's shoulder. "Armand will surely share with me."

"What makes you so sure of that?" Armand asked sardonically.

"Amadeo..."

"I can decide for myself in whose bed I will spend the day, thank you." He turned towards Daniel. "Would you mind, beloved?"

Pandora's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Looking at Santino at her side, she saw the same surprise on his face, and on Khayman's. Marius seemed to wonder if he had heard right.

Daniel blinked. "Of course, Armand. Whatever you want."

The small vampire nodded in approval. "I bid you all a good morning, lady and gentlemen," he said as he disappeared through the door of one of the guest bedrooms, a quite confused Daniel following him and closing the door again.

Marius laughed startedly. "He never ceases to amaze me."

Her eyelids beginning to close, Pandora gently pushed Santino towards their room. "Come, beloved. I would like to rest." Khayman and Marius were just retiring to their rooms when she closed the door.

Santino had already collapsed on the bed. Smiling, Pandora sat down at his side, running a hand through his hair.

"My poor darling, so tired..." she whispered, kissing his forehead.

"Don't tell me that you are not ready to drop, cara mia."

A short knock at the door kept her from replying. Sighing, she scanned to see who was there. "Come in, Louis."

The black-haired vampire entered, holding a few pieces of clothing in his arms. "I thought you might want pajamas... After all you did not bring anything with you..."

Pandora smiled at him. "Thank you that you thought of that."

"I would be a poor host if I did not. Sleep well, and pleasant dreams." With those words he left again.

Examining the garments Louis had given her, Pandora went over to Santino again. "I suppose this is for you," she said, handing him pajamas made of dark blue silk. Lestat's, she assumed. For her there was a similar one, just smaller and in beige, which most likely belonged to Louis.

Changing quickly, she went to the window to close the shutters and draw the curtains. The sky was still night black, the sun would not rise within the next two hours. Nevertheless she felt so tired as if dawn were imminent.

Santino was already in bed, his eyes closed. Yawning, Pandora slid under the covers too and snuggled up against him. As she buried her face against his neck, she felt his arms embrace her. Sighing contently, she yawned one last time, then drifted off to sleep.  
***

Treason: Chapter 12 - Midnight Oil  
***

Sitting down on the side of the bed, Armand turned to look at Daniel, and was greeted with an expression of confusion and anger. He sighed, he should have known better than deciding to share a room with Daniel just to spite Marius. Now he would have to make the best of it.

"Why did you do this?" Daniel asked, tossing the garments he had been handed by Louis onto the bed.

"What do you mean?" Armand asked, hoping to be able to buy time. If he could only manage to keep Daniel calm until the fledgling fell asleep... Armand did not know what to do if that did not work.

"There must be a reason why you are here. And I would like to know it." Daniel shot him an angry glare. "Or am I a pawn in one of your intricate games once again?"

Armand rose from the bed. "You never were."

"Of course I was, don't deny the obvious. I was the marionette, and you pulled the strings." Shaking his head, Daniel appeared to be struggling to calm himself. "We cannot go on like that, Armand. I cannot bear those fights any longer, and neither can you."

"You sound like Marius," Armand replied defiantly. "He also tried to stay away from all disagreements. Did he advise you not to fight with me?"

After a moment of silence, Daniel nodded reluctantly. "Yes. He said fighting with you would get me nowhere."

"And you believed him," Armand said angrily.

"I had no reason to think that he was lying."

"The wise Marius always speaks the truth, of course." A bitter smile played around Armand's lips. "And most important, he knows what is the best for all of us."

"You are being unfair to him."

"Perhaps. I can't even blame you for believing his words, after all it took me five centuries to realize that what he says is not always the wise and philosophical masterpiece it seems."

Daniel frowned. "Don't you think that you are exaggerating a little? Perhaps Marius is not always right, but he certainly has enough experience for me to take his words serious."

"So when I am two thousand years old, you will finally start to listen to me?" Armand shrugged. "I will have to wait then."

"I might already keep my ears open to your words in a mere millennium." With relief Armand noticed that Daniel was smiling a little. He did not really want to fight right now; he was too tired to concentrate properly.

"You would? How wonderfully gracious of you."

"Of course it depends on how mature you seem until then..."

Armand laughed quietly. "How can I convince you that I am old and wise?"

"Oh, I have a few things in mind."

"Which would be?"

"I'll show you."

Daniel approached Armand, and after hesitating for a moment slowly wrapped his arm around his maker's waist. Armand could feel the tension in his fledgling, the uncertainty of what would happen now, if he would break away. Smiling a little, Armand decided to make the best of the situation; better not refuse the peace Daniel seemed to offer. He allowed Daniel to hold him, resting his head against his child's chest and listening to his steady heartbeat.

When he raised one hand to caress Daniel's cheek, brushing slim white fingers over the smooth, cool skin, the heartbeat quickened a little; such a delicious instrument he was playing here. Armand moved to kiss Daniel's throat right above the shirt collar, listened with satisfaction to the sharp intake of breath as he tenderly bit the soft flesh, not nearly hard enough to draw blood.

Armand felt Daniel's hands sneak under his pullover and shirt, drawing him closer. First he wanted to resist, was suddenly not sure if this was what he really wanted, but then he let it happen, choosing to play along. One hand at the nape of Daniel's neck to hold him in place, Armand slowly worked his way upwards, alternately kissing, licking and nibbling. A moan escaped Daniel, only serving to further encourage Armand in his doings.

"Proof enough for my maturity?" Armand asked just before he reached Daniel's lips.

"Yes... No..." Daniel used the pause in the assault to get back his breath.

"No?" Armand gave him an amused smile. "I take it I will have to try and continue to convince you then."

"I might take a lot of conviction." A pleasurable shudder raced down Armand's spine as he felt Daniel's hand wind itself into his hair.

Daniel was tugging at his pullover, and Armand wriggled helpfully to get out of it. As soon as his face reappeared and the garment slid to the floor, he felt himself being crushed in a tight embrace, moist lips on his mouth. He responded eagerly, exploring Daniel's mouth with his tongue, shivering as his lover's hands once again were underneath his shirt, touching his belly and the small of his back.

At a sudden Armand was swept off his feet, his body caught in Daniel's arms. He did not let this interrupt his expressions of appreciation for his lover. When he felt himself falling, or at least descending rapidly, he clung to Daniel and drew him with him, landing them both on the bed in a tangled heap.

Lying on his back, Armand reached up to undo the first button of Daniel's shirt; two enthusiastic hands mirrored the action immediately.

"We should fight more often," Armand stated, working feverishly at the buttons. "Reconciling with you is rather enjoyable."

"Better skip the fights completely and just concentrate on making up," Daniel murmured against the hollow of Armand's throat, the movements of his mouth so wonderfully teasing the sensitive skin.

Armand had finished unbuttoning Daniel's shirt and pushed the cloth out of the way so he could nibble at his fledgling's shoulders without constantly being restrained by the white cotton. Hands were on his upper arms, pinning him down on the bed as Daniel started to lick the tiny droplets of blood sweat off his chest. Moaning, Armand involuntarily arched his back when Daniel's mouth fastened on a nipple, flicking it with his tongue. He did not want this to end, wanted to stay forever where he was now. His mind concentrated on the jolts of pleasure that raced through his body, ignoring all the tiny whispers of ration and cautiousness. Right now he had no need for them.

"Please," he hissed as Daniel's mouth found its way down to his stomach and drew circles around his navel.

"So impatient," Daniel whispered huskily, reaching his goal finally and making Armand moan softly again. So sweet to have Daniel's absolute attention.

Daniel released him to finish his work with his lover's shirt; as soon as he felt his wrists freed from the restraining sleeves, Armand ran his hands up and down Daniel's spine, touching the vertebrae with questioning fingers. He felt Daniel shiver with passion, made him gasp when he started to use his nails.

Soon Armand could not say if it had been minutes or hours since they had come here. He had given up all rational thinking, was just concentrating on enjoying the time with Daniel. Their faces were flushed; Daniel's lips were swollen and bruised from sucking while bite marks were slowly healing on Armand's shoulder where Daniel had gotten overly enthusiastic for a second. They were moving together, skin against skin. In the back of his mind Armand knew that they were not wearing anything any longer, though he could not quite remember undressing completely. He did not care; the feeling of Daniel's body pressed against his made such minor details absolutely superfluous.

He sank down on the mattress, tugging Daniel along with him. His lover's weight on his chest was so wonderfully real and alive, Armand thought as he writhed and wriggled into a comfortable position, reaching up to toss away the pillow that was pressing uncomfortably against his neck. A stab of pain shot through him as Daniel bit his neck, replaced nearly immediately by a rush of pleasure as the younger vampire began to drink. Armand reciprocated the gesture, trembling when Daniel's blood filled his mouth. He swallowed, savoring the unique taste of his lover for a moment before he increased his sucking, wanting more.

The images the blood always brought darted back and forth between them; while Armand struggled to control what Daniel was seeing, trying to keep the many dark moments hidden, Daniel just opened his mind. Thoughts, feelings, memories, Armand was allowed to see everything. The face of the handsome girl on whom he had fed tonight, the smell of jasmine, an amicable talk with a neighbor. Then Armand saw himself through Daniel's eyes, how he had looked when his fledgling had tenderly bitten his lower lip. He felt the lust Daniel was experiencing right now, could tell that his lover's passion was burning brightly. A new wave of images, this time of Marius. Armand heard him speak of forgiveness, of the need to reconciliation between maker and fledgling. Daniel's growing regret when he thought of what he had said to Armand.

He was honestly regretting the fight. Armand closed his eyes, happiness warming his body. Deep inside he had believed that Daniel was not serious about mending things, but the blood did not lie. Armand had been holding back ever so slightly, but now there was no longer the need to do it. What they were doing was not an act of deceiving themselves but of love.

Another memory came, of Marius smiling at Daniel. The Roman vampire was leaning forward, and Daniel...

Armand froze.

Daniel had kissed Marius. Tonight.

And he had enjoyed it.

Armand felt horribly used.

Daniel withdrew from his neck, and Armand felt the puncture wounds tingle as they healed.

"What is it, my demon familiar?" he whispered.

"Don't call me that," Armand replied sharply, shoving Daniel off him none too gently.

His fledgling stared at him in confusion. "Armand..."

"Don't say anything."

Daniel reached out for him, and Armand bolted from the bed, trying to put as much distance between himself and this traitor as possible. How could he have done that! He had used Armand as a replacement for Marius, had surely been thinking of the Roman all the time while Armand had believed himself to be the one Daniel wanted. He had been a replacement once again, an object to fulfill somebody's desires. And that it had been Daniel, his own child, made it hurt twice as much.

"But Armand..."

"How could you do this to me?"

"Do what?"

"You abused me!"

"What? Never!"

"Don't you dare to deny it!" By now Armand was screaming and barely suppressing the trembling. "You lust after Marius, I felt it!"

"Armand, please let me explain..."

"There is nothing to explain; you betrayed me on a most basic level! You used me as a substitute for him, you bastard!"

"Listen, it's not what it looks like..."

"Oh, really? You would have slept with me while fantasizing about him! Can you even begin to imagine what this makes me feel like?" Armand grabbed one of the robes Louis had brought them earlier and roughly pulled it on as he went to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"You can't expect me to stay here." He picked up the pillow that lay on the floor. "I hate you for this." Leaving, he slammed the door shut behind him.

Out in the hallway, Armand leaned against the wall and sank to the floor slowly. He clutched the pillow to his chest, buried his face in the softness. Nearly immediately he felt something wet against his cheeks, he had not even noticed that he was crying.

He heard the sound of doors being opened; the others had certainly heard his shouting. Worried voices, somebody asking him what was wrong. Armand did not answer, he just cowered on the smooth wooden floor, doing nothing.

A hand was on his chin, gently forcing him to look up and into someone's face. Marius. Armand shrank back immediately, squeezing his eyes shut. He did not want to see him.

"Amadeo, what is wrong?"

He made himself as small as possible, turned away.

Hushed voices again; Armand did not bother to listen to them.

"Young one." Khayman. "We cannot help you if you don't tell us what happened."

Armand shook his head, but did not back away as he felt himself being drawn into a light embrace. Khayman would not hurt him.

But he had thought the same of Daniel, hadn't he? And Daniel had stabbed him right into the heart. Armand began to tremble with fear; he could not trust Khayman. Not now, not as long as he did not know the ancient vampire's intentions. But he could not muster the strength to break free of his embrace.

"What is going on here?" So Lestat had arrived at the scene as well. Surely he would use this to mock Armand as soon as he had the chance to it. "Is Armand hurt?"

"I don't think so," Khayman replied. "Armand, can you hear me?"

"Daniel is alright." Armand curled up even tighter at the mention of that name. Sweet Louis, so concerned about the well being of everybody.

"Give him to me," yet another voice said. In the back of his mind Armand recognized it, but could not grasp the person's name. He felt himself being taken away from Khayman, prepared himself for whatever would happen now. Memories of his mortal past flashed through his mind, of the way he had been given to Marius. Was the same happening again?

His face came to rest against someone's chest; one arm was supporting his back, the other held his thighs just above the knees. Afraid of what he would see, he did not dare to open his eyes. But a faint smell reached his nose, a scent he recognized. Vanilla bubble bath.

Pandora.

Armand clung to her desperately, pressing himself to her as tightly as possible. She had saved him before, she would do it again; he remembered clearly what he had read in her mind, that she would take care of him.  
***

Holding the shivering bundle in her arms, Pandora rose to her feet. She had no idea what was going on here, but she was sure that right now the best thing was to get Armand away from the hallway and the immediate presence of others. Whoever was responsible for the young vampire's current unsettlement had done a very thorough job; Pandora could clearly feel the alarm and confusion Armand radiated. And even if she had shielded her mind, she could not have ignored the ghostly pallor, the shaking and the blood tears that stained his face.

Somebody touched her shoulder; when she turned around, she saw that it was Marius, a dark shadow of concern on his features.

"Can you read him? What happened?"

"I don't know," she replied. "And right now I don't care why he is in this state."

"But-"

"Something has scared him to the mark of his bones, and I am sure we will find out soon enough what exactly it was." She took a few steps towards her room. "He'll stay with me for the day."

Marius nodded. "Thank you..."

"Don't worry." Pandora smiled at him tiredly. "Your Amadeo will be fine again in no time."

He seemed to want to say something else, but Lestat appeared at his side suddenly and dragged him downstairs. Santino and Khayman followed; apparently they would try to bring some light into this mess.

Sighing, Pandora returned to her room. She was not quite sure what she was supposed to do now. Last night she had been calming Armand too, but that had been a completely different situation. He had been shocked from watching Sybelle burn to death, and Pandora had been able to deal with that. But now she was quite sure that just putting him to sleep would not do the trick. This was not the five-hundred-year-old vampire of last night but a frightened child. And Pandora did not have the slightest idea of what to do now. She had never had children on her own, so she lacked all experience in that matter. Her sisters-in-law would have known what to do, she thought grimly. They had all raised their share of children; they had been experienced in soothing scared little minds.

Keeping Armand aware of her presence was probably a good beginning, she decided as she sat down on the bed. She did not really have much of a choice; he was still clinging to her, grasping her pajama blouse tightly with no inclination to let go. The cloth would surely rip if she tried to loosen his grip, and these were Louis' pajamas after all.

She leaned against the headboard and drew up the covers; she was still feeling cold from the escapade to the north. Armand shifted, settling in a more comfortable position and snuggling closer if that was still possible.

"Armand?"

No response.

"Little one?" She peered at his face, smoothing the unruly auburn curls away from his forehead. Armand was looking at her with those enormous brown eyes.

"Did you mean it?" he asked in a tiny voice.

Pandora gave him a questioning look. "Mean what?"

"What you said to Marius."

Smiling softly, Pandora nodded. "Of course. I always mean what I say."

Armand returned the smile tentatively, then slipped one slim arm around her neck. He appeared a little more relaxed now that he had this confirmation; perhaps he had feared that she would send him out again.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, little one."

He seemed to be pondering something, an absent expression on his face. Pandora became curious, and it would have been easy for her to see what was on his mind no matter how strongly he was shielding himself. But she held back, thinking that she should better not do anything that could be interpreted as an attack right now.

Instead she scanned for the others, found them gathered downstairs as she had expected. First she wanted to silently ask Santino about their talk, but when she tried to touch his mind, she found it full of tightly controlled anger and disappointment. No need to confuse him any further when there were others to talk to.

Khayman, friendly as always, responded immediately when she asked him to inform her about what was going on.

::We are still trying to make Daniel talk to us,:: he said. ::He refuses to tell us what happened, and questioning him takes time.::

::So you have not found out anything so far?:: Pandora wanted to know.

::No,:: came the reply. ::He is only telling us bits and pieces, and we have to put them together. It is like doing a jigsaw puzzle.::

::I see...::

::How is Armand doing?::

Pandora looked at the younger vampire, who was not stirring.

::Better than before, I think. At least he is not shaking any longer, and he talked.::

::Good signs,:: Khayman agreed. ::He will surely...:: A jolt of surprise shot through his mind at a sudden, so strong that Pandora shied back from it instinctively. Whatever was happening down there, it had just taken an unexpected turn, and Khayman would probably appreciate it when he could focus on the problem at hand and not also talk to her at the same time. She would find out soon enough anyway.

She hoped that Daniel would soon give up his defiance and tell his inquisitors what had happened between him and Armand. Pandora could not even begin to guess what it had been about, and neither could the others as far as she knew.

A cool hand gently touched her cheek; startled, she opened her eyes - she had not even noticed that she had closed them - and found Armand peering at her, a worried expression on his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. "You seemed so withdrawn at a sudden." So he had been paying attention to her; good to know that he was once again taking stock of his surroundings.

"Don't worry," Pandora answered, not saying anything else. She did not want to tell him of the discussion that was going on downstairs.

"If you say so." Slowly and carefully disentangling himself from her embrace, Armand moved to sit next to her. "They are questioning him, aren't they?"

Reluctantly Pandora nodded.

"Did he tell them anything yet?"

"Not much so far."

Armand frowned slightly. "He will stay silent about as many things as possible."

"You think so? Why?" Pandora was a little surprised that he was talking about this, but decided not to change the topic as long as he remained calm and showed no signs of discomfort.

He shook his head. "Are you close to Marius still?" he asked, ignoring her question completely.

Not sure of what he wanted to hear, Pandora settled for the truth. "Not very." She paused when she saw Armand's expression darken, and only continued after carefully choosing her words. "I love him still, but it has been quite some time since we really were together as more than friends. We respect each other, and like each other. But we have both decided to live our own lives."

Bowing his head thoughtfully, Armand considered her words before he spoke. "You decided..." he whispered, more to himself than to her. More loudly he continued. "How long have you been with him?"

"About two hundred years," she answered, amazed that he had apparently never read her story that she had told to David. Why did he want to know that?

"Two centuries is a long time," Armand said.

"It depends on whom you ask." Pandora shrugged. "Why do you want to know?"

"I was just curious." And he had something in mind, that much was clear. Pandora had the distinct impression that he was not just talking for conversation's sake. "May I ask you another question?"

"You obviously just did." She smiled at him. "You may also ask two or three."

"Did you fight with him?"

"With Marius?" Pandora laughed out loud. "I can't remember a time when we did not argue about anything. Sometimes I think he disagreed with me on purpose."

Armand sighed softly. "So he willingly hurt you?"

"No," Pandora replied in a serious voice. "Not at all. The fights never lasted long, and we both knew that in the end we would reconcile. The only time I was hurt by his actions was when he left Antioch without my knowledge; but when I look back at this now, I cannot say that he really did it on purpose. He probably thought I could easily follow him if I wanted."

"And you could not?"

"Perhaps I would eventually have found him, but after some time I did not look for him any longer. My turn now. Why are you asking these questions? And don't tell me that this is all about your curiosity."

He looked away. "It is not important."

"Tell me anyway."

Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. "I will tell you tonight."

Pandora sighed in exasperation. "You can as well tell me now."

"But..."

"Just tell me. I answered your questions, now you answer mine."

He had just opened his mouth when somebody knocked at the door. Armand shrank back visibly, even began to tremble slightly again. Pandora drew him close, ready to throw the intruder out if necessary.

The door opened and Santino came inside, looking extremely annoyed. The discussion had obviously not brought the results he had expected, or he would not have radiated such blackness. Pandora wanted to stand up and give him a comforting hug, but at the same time was not willing to leave Armand's side and rob him of all support. She did not know how he would react to Santino's presence, and until she found out, she was not going to let Armand out of her immediate sight and reach.

"I hope I am not disturbing," Santino said, massaging his temples. "I can go again if you want."

"No need for that." Armand was clearly content that Santino's presence relieved him of the need to answer Pandora's question. Still he watched every move of the black-haired vampire carefully, staying close to Pandora. She could feel his tension, he was not sure still how to proceed.

"Thank you." Slumping down on the chair next to the cupboard, Santino closed his eyes.

"What happened?" Pandora asked; she did not like it at all to see him like this.

"Nothing important," came the reply. "Just the usual backstabbing. I swear that Lestat was about to strangle me when I defended Armand."

The body next to Pandora tensed even more. "You confronted Lestat because of me?"

Santino shrugged. "Yes."

"Why?"

"You were blamed for something you were not responsible for, and since you were not there to justify yourself I spoke on your behalf. Khayman helped me, though he tried to remain neutral most of the time."

Armand let out a shaky sigh and sank against Pandora, all tension gone at a sudden. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. It had to be done."

"Are you always going to say that when I try to thank you?"

Santino shot him a smile. "Perhaps."

Pandora had noticed with relief that Armand was relaxing once again; apparently he trusted Santino enough to let his guard down in front of him; not completely, but notably. She slowly left Armand's side and drew Santino into a light embrace, kissing his forehead.

"You look tired."

"I am, cara mia," he replied. "Remind me not to argue with Lestat when I should better sleep. I actually have a headache."

"Don't complain, nobody forced you to join that discussion. You could as well have stayed in bed."

"Whatever. Armand, I take it you are going to sleep here?"

Armand nodded shyly. "Pandora said I could."

"It's alright," Santino assured him. "I am sure Khayman won't mind sharing his room with me." He took a few steps towards the door, but Pandora blocked his way immediately.

"You are going to stay here. Somebody has to make sure that you finally stop working and rest. And don't you try and argue with me."

"God beware." Santino looked honestly shocked. "That's really the last thing I want to do right now."

"Good. There's enough space for the three of us anyway."

Soon they all had settled comfortably under the covers. Armand had politely insisted that Pandora took the place in the middle; apparently he wanted to keep at least a little of what he had claimed to be a gentlemanly distance to Santino. She had complied, and was now holding Armand in a loose embrace. Drowsily he turned in her arms until he was lying face to face with her, using her shoulder as a pillow. Soon he was dozing peacefully. Touching Santino's mind carefully, Pandora found him to be asleep as well, and she really intended to keep it that way. Best to make sure that nobody interrupted their sleep, she thought as she sent out a warning to the others in the house to be quiet if they did not want face an angry dark-haired vampire in the evening.  
***

After the others had left the parlor and retired to their rooms again, Marius remained seated. He knew he would not be able to sleep yet; his mind was a turmoil of unanswered questions and unfinished thoughts. So much had happened tonight, and he had yet to find out what to think of it. Marius preferred to have his thoughts and ideas in order, but right now he found it difficult if not impossible to discover the event that had triggered everything.

When he looked at it now, he knew that it had been a foolish idea to get so close to Daniel. The young vampire was the child of his own fledgling, after all, and it was really not right for Marius to try and approach him in that way. It should have been clear that Armand would not be pleased with any relationship that might develop between his maker and his child. But Marius had hoped that there would be a way, had somehow expected that things would turn out alright.

He should have known better, he thought now, a bitter smile on his lips. Daniel had seemed so glad about Marius' closeness, and had not shied back at all; quite the opposite. Marius had understood this as an encouragement; he had believed that the fledgling was returning his sympathy when they had talked, sitting in that small coffee shop Daniel had fled to after his initial fight with Armand. They had been getting along so well; soon there had been gentle mind touches between them, hands communicating silently through finger strokes on wrists.

Things had got a little out of control from then on. There had been kisses; Marius remembered them only too well, his skin still burned at the spots where Daniel's lips had been touching it. If only they had left it at this; they should have stopped there. But they had not. Thinking that they were both old enough to know what they were doing, Marius had allowed Daniel to take him further, silently marveling at the bluntness of the young vampire. The taste of Daniel's blood still lingered on his tongue, sweet and smooth, the characteristic flavor of a young one, but nevertheless with a tint of power. This one was strong for his age.

And Armand had somehow found out about it and was looking at it as a sign of betrayal from both Marius and Daniel. What Marius had believed to be a harmless fling that could become more in time had hurt Armand fiercely. Daniel had not been very specific about how his maker had discovered what they had been doing, but it didn't take much to put two and two together. Armand could only know it from Daniel, and that meant that the young vampire had told him about it deliberately. Marius did not want to think that there was also the possibility that Armand had seen it all through the blood; he did not like the thought at all that Daniel had been bedding Armand a mere hour after their encounter.

Marius was tempted to go and see how Armand was doing, but at the same time didn't think that this was the wisest thing to do. He remembered only too well how his fledgling had shied away from him when he had tried to pick up the shivering Armand in the hallway. The frightened expression on the youthful face was tormenting Marius, it hurt to think that his own fledgling feared and despised him. Marius wanted to explain to Armand what had happened; perhaps it would help his angel to calm himself. And it might also help Marius himself and offer some relief of the guilt he was feeling. There would be time enough in the evening to check on Armand, he decided. The young one was probably sleeping anyway, and Marius did not wish to disturb his rest.  
***

Sighing, Louis closed the door to Lestat's bedroom behind him. The number of their guests made it necessary for him to stay here for the day, and usually he would not have minded at all. But right now all he wanted was being alone and left in peace, something that was virtually impossible with Lestat around. He could be so overwhelming at times; and the small gestures of love he used to bestow on Louis were beginning to become annoying.

Louis had the feeling that the whole affair was getting out of control. Not only was there the obvious problem of Marius' dead fledglings - and David too, he must not forget David, Louis told himself. Polite and friendly David; Louis really regretted that there had not been more time to get to know him. But somehow he lacked the energy to really mourn for him like Lestat, who had been crying over the loss of his youngest fledgling when the rumors from Armand and Daniel's bedroom had interrupted them.

This was even more difficult. They still did not know exactly what had happened since Daniel was only reluctantly answering the questions the others had asked. It had been so clear that the young one would not talk voluntarily just yet, and several times had Louis been about to ask the others to continue their interrogation the next evening after they all had managed to calm somewhat. But whenever he had opened his mouth, Louis had received glances from Santino and Khayman that had silenced him even before he spoke. Those two had been the head inquisitors, Santino trying to catch Daniel in his own words like a lawyer or a pettifogger would have done, while Khayman had been the calming and balancing force. The ancient one had not allowed any interruptions, though, and even Lestat had accepted this.

Carefully Louis closed the shutters and drew the curtains. Lestat would come in a few minutes, and he wanted to be asleep by then; Louis felt absolutely no inclination to talk or do anything else right now. Hopefully Lestat would be able to understand for once. Sighing once again, Louis lay down, closed his eyes and tried to sleep. But his mind began to wander, the vivid thoughts that raced through his head making it impossible for him to escape awareness and awakeness.

He had the feeling that he was arguing with himself, but didn't know about what he disagreed with the second voice in his mind. Part of him just wanted to let go of everything, withdraw again into a shack similar to the one Lestat had burned years ago. In such a place he could once again live the life of an eremite, undisturbed by any of the others, his only company being tiny candlelights and old books. He could forget about time there, just live one night after another until he was ready to take the final step into the sun. Perhaps such a secluded life was what he was made for.

But something told him that he must not do this, that he was needed and wanted and could not simply withdraw completely from the others. And he too wanted their company to some measure; Lestat he loved, and though he had not really wanted the others to come he was happy somehow to see them again, even if it was under such tragic circumstances.

Perhaps Louis would not have to attend all the discussions that were bound to come now. Surely the older ones were capable of debating a course of action on their own without his help. There wasn't much he could do anyway, he felt too weary to really concentrate on the problems at hand. And he had to admit that he did not care much about the occurrences. While the deaths were sad, of course, Louis found himself strangely detached. It had not even bothered him much that he had been in mortal danger when Maharet had attacked Marius' house in an attempt to kill Armand.

That he had woken up buried in the far corner of the garden had not concerned him much. Usually Louis did not like to spend the day underground, had only done it when absolutely necessary. But this time it had been comforting, as if the earth had reached out to rescue him from the dangers and trouble of the world above.  
***

Treason: Chapter 13 - Assembling the Pieces  
***

The next evening Santino was the first of the trio to wake. Quietly he left the bed, careful not to disturb the others' sleep; they could surely need another hour of rest. Pandora had never been an early riser, and Santino suspected that Armand would not stir tonight unless somebody woke him.

After taking a quick shower and dressing, he made his way downstairs into the parlor, finding it empty. Rather than scanning for others, Santino went into the kitchen to look for them mortal-like. With so many vampires in the house, any sort of mental communication could be confusing, and he would rather avoid any more trouble if possible. The existing chaos was quite enough.

Perhaps he ought to hunt before going to speak with anybody; he was feeling more nervous than usual, and the blood's soothing effect would be nice right now. But his hunger was not great enough to make him leave and look for a victim, not yet, perhaps later tonight. There was always time for those things.

Entering the kitchen, Santino would have nearly turned around again, but he forced himself not to stop. A small, carefully maintained smile on his lips, he went to lean against the counter, trying not to completely avoid looking at Marius, who was sitting at the round kitchen table.

For endless awkward moments they both remained silent, each waiting for the other one to be the first to speak. Santino disliked to take the first step when it came to Marius, as long as he could not estimate the Roman's mood, he felt insecure about addressing him. And the last night did not make it any easier; Santino knew that Marius had somehow been involved in the events that had led to Armand's current state. There had been enough hints in Daniel's reluctant answers to guess that much, only Marius' exact role still remained a mystery. And though wanting to question Marius about it, Santino had refrained from it when Khayman had asked him to do so.

The presence of the ancient one was a balancing force in the house, that much was clear. Without him, Lestat would probably be out hunting down Maharet, and the rest of them would drive each other crazy. Not that Khayman would be able to keep them from doing that forever, of course.

"Good evening," Marius finally said, to Santino's great relief. The silence had been oppressing already. Acknowledging this with a slight nod, Santino waited if Marius would say something else, which he did. "What do you want?"

Frowning slightly at the brisk words, Santino hesitated a little before he replied. "Whatever you are willing to offer."

Marius looked at him, blue eyes taking stock of every detail. Santino schooled himself into absolute stillness, concentrating on suppressing even the slightest flexing of the tiniest muscles.

"I know what you wish to do," the Roman said calmly. "You have questions and crave the answers."

Santino nodded. "Exactly."

"Then give me a good reason for answering them."

Obviously Marius was not going to make this easy; Santino only wondered why he could not simply talk, without going through senseless phrases first. But Marius had what Santino wanted, so he would have to play along in order to get it.

"Is there anything specific you want to hear, or will you be content with any motive for my inquiries?" Undertones of mockery in his voice, enough for Marius to notice it.

"What about the truth for once?" the older vampire shot back.

Shrugging, Santino offered a smile. "Interest."

"It was not mere interest, the way you questioned Daniel yesterday. That was an inquisition, only the red hot pincers and the thumbscrews were missing."

"I had trouble getting them through customs."

Marius ignored the comment. "What makes you so determined to discover the facts? And I want a real answer, not just a few words."

Santino thought about this for a few moments, then carefully approached the subject, not feeling comfortable at all. He did not enjoy losing the position of the questioner, he felt as if he were being accused of something.

"The last nights have not been easy, for neither of us. I am becoming wary of any disturbances in the coven as long as I cannot be completely sure of the effects. Too much has happened, and it's always the little things that trigger the big tragedy." He closed his eyes for a moment, then continued. "Last night something happened between you and Daniel. Some hours later, Armand had a complete breakdown because of a yet unknown reason while he was in the company of Daniel. Who knows what he may have done if Pandora had not been able to calm him. Suicide, homicide, that are only a few possibilities." He narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze on the other vampire. "Marius, I do not believe in coincidences. Not anymore. Perhaps it was a private matter between you and Daniel at first, but the moment your fledgling collapsed in a sobbing bundle in the hallway it lost all privacy."

"You are interested in the matter because it affected Armand?" Marius' tone was not exactly threatening, but neither was it harmless.

"I am interested because it affected *somebody*. If it had been Louis or Khayman, I would try to discover all the facts too, and prevent any further catastrophes if possible."

"Aren't you becoming a little paranoid?"

"Because I see another great disaster coming because of that incident? I really do not think so. Incidents can start chain reactions. It only takes a small snowball to create an avalanche. As I said, this one was probably intercepted when Armand calmed down again, but try to imagine for a moment what would have happened if it had happened closer to the dawn and if Armand had run out of the house. Just to give you an idea of what could have been possible."

Marius bowed his head, his blond hair slipping over his shoulders and hiding his face. A resigned sigh escaped him.

"I see your motivation, but surely you understand that I had to ask."

"Not really, but you certainly had your reasons." Santino shrugged once again, then slowly sat down at the kitchen table, right opposite Marius. "I have got a rather good idea of what took place between that brash fledgling and you, but I would like to hear if my theory is correct."

Raising his eyebrows, Marius gave him a startled look; apparently he had expected a less direct approach. "What theory?"

"That there was a fight between you and Daniel," Santino stated. "Or a more or less intimate encounter. It does not matter which of the two, the outcome would be quite the same."

"Suppose I would say yes. What would be your next question?"

"How intimate you got."

"Why are you so sure that we did not fight instead?"

"Because if you had quarreled, you wouldn't try to foresee my next question. You are embarrassed of what happened, and surely you wouldn't be ashamed of a fight."

"I bet you know all Sherlock Holmes stories by heart."

"As a matter of fact, I do. What about your answer?"

"This is a quite personal thing, you realize."

"Of course. And I cannot promise you that I will not tell anybody else about it."

Marius sighed. "Is it really that important for you to know how far we did take it?"

"It would help me to understand. If I assume that Armand's reaction was triggered by the knowledge of what you and Daniel did, I daresay that you didn't leave it at just looking at each other."

Marius appeared thoughtful; not surprising at all. Santino was not one of his friends, merely an acquaintance connected with a few rather bad events in the past. Though hoping that Marius would talk, Santino did not really expect it. Not that it was still necessary; he already had a rather clear idea of the events, mostly harmless things that were dangerous only in combination with each other. An encounter between Marius and Daniel, Armand's exhaustion and the general tension in the house; enough to cause a few unpleasant situations. And Marius probably felt quite guilty about it now.

"It was not your fault, you know," he told Marius.

"What do you mean?"

"Under different circumstances Armand would probably have been happy for the two of you."

"I know," Marius replied. "But with all the deaths and attacks, he looks for whatever support he can get."

Santino nodded. "Exactly."

"He must feel as if Daniel and I are shutting him out."

"Most likely, yes."

"What a mess."

 

***

With a deep sigh, Marius leaned forward until his elbows came to rest on the table. It sounded so logical, the way Santino was talking, and yet Marius knew that he himself could never have seen it so clearly, simply because he had been involved. Sometimes distance was needed to see the complete picture. It bothered him a little to be told this by Santino of all people, but he should probably be grateful that the Italian vampire had chosen to question him privately and not in front of the others. It was unpleasant enough already.

"What will you do now?" Santino asked, if out of real curiosity or to keep their talk going Marius did not know.

"Talk with Armand, I suppose." Marius ran a hand through his hair. "I think I owe him an explanation."

Santino nodded thoughtfully. "He will rather accept it from you than from Daniel."

Again the name. Marius did not like to hear it spoken by somebody else, not at all. He still was not sure if he should be feeling betrayed by Daniel or not; it was impossible to say if the young fledgling had been sharing the blood with Armand deliberately. Marius knew only too well how seductive the auburn-haired imp could be; he had fallen for it himself more than once. The thing was that Armand did not seem to really be able to control his own allurement, which had got him into bad situations quite often in his life. Perhaps the temptation had been too great for Daniel to resist. And if that was the case, he could not blame the young one at all.

It was strange how strongly Marius felt attracted to him. Usually he did not fall for brash youngsters easily, the only exception had been Lestat. But there was something unique about Daniel, and Marius could not say what exactly it was. It had to do with the fact that the fledgling had some of Marius' blood in his veins, perhaps that strengthened the connection Marius felt between them.

He ought to do something about this, that was really necessary. Things could not continue this way, Marius did not like to just wait and see how and if their relationship developed. He had never been one to stand back and watch, always guiding the processes around him if possible.

Santino was studying him quietly, not saying anything at all. So unpredictable, that one; Marius was never sure what he wanted to achieve with his neutral questions that could be so completely unrelated to the topic at hand. The picture only became clear to see when it was too late to do anything about it. Marius hated to feel so manipulated, and with Santino he always had the feeling that he was playing into the former coven master's hands without being aware of it. His mere presence made Marius feel uneasy and apprehensive.

Nevertheless he had to admit that Santino had undergone a rather thorough change, that the parts of his personality Marius had come to loathe had disappeared. There was not much left of the ice cold man who lived his life according to the rules of the power games, who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. Still the beginning of their mutual history would always remain a dark chapter. How ironic that Pandora should end up with Santino of all people, when there were so many others she could have fallen in love with. She had to choose the only vampire who had ever really tried to kill Marius, who had robbed him of all happiness within a few moments. It was hard to accept and Marius would have liked to blame Santino for tricking her into loving him. But Pandora had always been doing the contrary of what he would have liked her to do, with a precision that never ceased to amaze him. Somehow he doubted that the Italian had her under his spell the way that ancient Asian vampire had once controlled her. Perhaps she really liked him.

He should talk to Pandora, he had to assure himself that she was alright and happy. Since they had arrived here, Marius had concentrated on Armand alone, had not exchanged more than a few words with her. And within five minutes he had managed to get slapped by her; a possible sign that things between them were still as they used to be two millennia ago. When he thought of it now, he knew that his attempt to have Daniel and Armand talk to each other quietly had been thoughtless, but it had seemed like a very good idea at the time.

Closing his eyes, he rested his head on his palms. Armand and his fledgling were one of the smaller problems right now.

"Has anybody scanned for Maharet yet?" he asked, forcing himself to meet Santino's steady gaze.

"Not as far as I know. Pandora is still asleep, and I have yet to see Lestat this evening."

"He has taken Louis out to hunt." It was strange to know that Louis accepted Lestat's company at a sudden; perhaps he was still too shaken by the attack. To Marius the young vampire seemed to be in shock still, and somewhat detached from the activities around him. Surely it would pass in time.

"It would be better if he concentrated less on Louis and more on the problems at hand."

Marius frowned at this statement. "He cares for his fledgling."

"Of course... I never said he did not. But still we must not forget about Maharet."

"We will deal with her when the time is right. There is not much we can do now except wait."

Santino nodded. "Do you know if there have been any more deaths?" he asked, and Marius wondered how much of his calmness was real and not a carefully maintained mask.

"I haven't felt any, but I have not been watching out deliberately for them." A thought crossed Marius' mind. "Who were those two vampires Khayman told us about?"

"That's not important. They are dead." It was more than clear that Santino did not want to talk about them.

"Still I would like to know. Perhaps we are overlooking some important information." Besides, Santino had made Marius feel uncomfortable with making him talk about Daniel. It was only fair to reciprocate.

"There is nothing to overlook. Go out and get his book if you must, I refuse to talk about them." Santino's voice was perfectly balanced, but there was a dangerous edge in his voice. Interesting that this topic had such an effect on him. Marius decided to press.

"I dimly recall you saying that since Armand's breakdown was connected to what happened between Daniel and me, those things lost any degree of privacy." Marius narrowed his eyes. "I believe that we are now in a similar situation. Whatever makes you so reluctant to talk about them, it doesn't matter now because their deaths are connected to those in our coven."

Santino gave him a humorless smile. "I must remember to watch my words around you. I should like to play chess with you one night."

"Perhaps that can be arranged. What about those vampires?"

"I told you to go and read their book."

"It's Sunday, the stores are closed."

"Since when does that stop you?"

"Santino, I want to hear this from your lips. Now. Who were they?"

With a sigh Santino closed his eyes for a moment before he spoke. "Vittorio and Ursula. She was a member of a Florentine coven in the 1400s, and he one of the mortals they caught for their rituals. Somehow he managed to survive, escape and kill the entire coven with her being the only exception. She later made him her fledgling. He seemed quite mad, and claimed that he saw the angels of God all the time. But they both lived rather secluded lives and did not bother anyone much." Santino appeared about to say something else, but then remained silent.

So this was why he disliked talking about them. Marius could well imagine that the thought of a mortal who killed an entire coven had to be unsettling for him; surely the knowledge of this had frightened the vampires in Rome and made them harder to control. If Marius interpreted this right, Santino disliked those two vampires because they had been causing too much trouble to simply be ignored.

"Did you never meet them?" he asked, more to make Santino talk about them than out of real curiosity.

"Once... after I had left my coven. They offered to protect me if I was willing to cleanse my soul from the sins that weighed it down, as they said." Santino gave a short laugh. "Considering that I no longer believed in souls or sins, it was not the best way to persuade me."

"So they were nothing but two rather religious beings that stayed away from everybody else when possible," Marius summed up. "And then this Vittorio writes a book, and is subsequently killed by Maharet because of it."

"If she continues with her crusade, it won't take long until she has annihilated half of the planet's vampire population," Santino said. "Nearly everybody has broken at least one of the new rules, simply because it's sometimes impossible to avoid it."

Marius nodded grimly. "We should call the others together and decide on a plan. It's irresponsible if we don't try to stop her."

While Santino mentally asked Lestat to return home, Marius went upstairs to wake those who were still sleeping. They had no time to lose.

***

Armand had just finished dressing himself when somebody knocked at the door. Startled, he tried to scan for the person's identity, but his mind was met with an unbreakable barrier. Frowning, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He could not read the one outside, not even the slightest glimpse; and Armand usually was able to at least feel the presence. But this was a complete blank, a blind spot that reduced the number of possible visitors to two: Marius and Daniel. Armand was not sure if he could face his fledgling now; he had calmed himself again, but the hurt still sat deep.

Again a knocking. The usual defenses and masks falling into place, Armand went to the door and, after hesitating just a moment, pushed the handle down. And let out a shaky sigh of relief.

"Good evening, Armand," Marius said in a soft voice, appeared about to add something else but then shook his head ever so slightly.

"Master." Armand acknowledged his presence with a short nod, horribly relieved that it was Marius who had come. "Why are you here?" he asked, trying to sound friendly and succeeding.

"We need to talk."

"Who? We as in the two of us?"

After a short silence, Marius met Armand's gaze. "That too, young one, and I would rather do that sooner than later. But I was talking of the assembled vampires here. We must decide about our actions."

So Marius was willing to talk, to explain... Armand was not quite sure if this was as good a sign as it seemed at first glance. Explanations could sometimes be worse than the worst suspicions; and knowing something for sure instead of only speculating about it could be devastating. He tried not to think too much about this, they would not talk yet anyway. First they would be having another council.

Quietly Armand watched as his maker went to the bed to wake Pandora; how she could still be asleep was beyond Armand's understanding. He had always believed that the older a vampire became, the earlier he or she would rise. She was being the exception of the rule - perhaps he should not be surprised, considering that it was Pandora who he was wondering about; the woman probably lived to be an exception.

He could not help smiling when she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes sleepily, showing her delicate fangs as she yawned. Brushing her hair out of her face, she shot Armand a quick grin before she took Marius' outstretched hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

::You look better tonight,:: she told Armand silently. ::How do you feel?::

Armand pondered the question before answering. ::Somewhat surprised when I think of how I reacted last night. I think I was just exhausted and weary of everything that happened.::

Pandora nodded slightly, appearing to be satisfied with his reply; she withdrew her hand from Marius' and headed for the bathroom. At the door she turned around.

"You don't have to wait for me, I'll be joining you downstairs in a minute." With those words she disappeared, and moments later Armand could hear the shower being turned on. He cast a wary look at Marius, who was still standing in the middle of the room.

"Shall we go and meet the others, Master?" Armand asked, taking a few steps towards the door.

"Yes... no. Young one," Marius took a deep breath," I am so sorry about last night."

"It was not your fault," Armand pointed out quietly. "I don't hold you responsible for it."

"But..."

"Please," he interrupted Marius softly, raising his hand slightly. "I know that we must speak, but there is no time for it now. The others will already be waiting for us."

Marius looked at him, blue eyes searching his face before he blinked and nodded. "You are right, young one. But you don't have to go if you think you cannot take it."

"Don't worry for me, I will be alright. I want to be there, I need to know what will happen."

Again, Marius hesitated. "He will be there too."

"Daniel?" Armand forced himself to say the name. "I can't avoid him forever, can I? And last night I was worn out, and because of that I overreacted."

It seemed that Marius did not quite believe this, but he did not say anything, just opened the door for Armand, who went out into the hallway where he waited for his Master. Side by side they walked down the stairs, and Armand found himself wondering why he was not feeling any anger at Marius. Only the slightest hint of disappointment, but even that was beginning to fade slowly but steadily.

They entered the parlor, finding the others assembled already. Khayman was giving them both a warm smile as they settled on the couch next to him; Armand did not feel at ease in his vicinity, but the old vampire was clearly trying to show that he posed no threat to any of them.

Lestat, curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace, looked positively enraged. Armand barely suppressed a sigh as he saw that his mood had not changed at all; understandable when one considered Lestat's temper. Under that aspect it was surprising that he had himself under control still and was not wrecking havoc upon the earth. Armand could understand what Lestat was feeling, they had both lost loved ones, and had to cope with it as best as they could.

One who did not appear to have been affected at all was Louis. Sitting on his chair, back straight, hands resting on his thighs, he looked like he was daydreaming. Inwardly frowning, Armand took in his absent expression, the strange feeling of detachment he radiated. Had this been the same yesterday? Armand could not say that for sure, he had not paid much attention to Louis, who had been quiet most of the night. The black-haired vampire had a way of drifting into the background that could make one forget about him entirely until he did something to gently remind everybody of his presence. He had not done such a thing last night, though.

Santino was lounging in one of the armchairs, a rather regal appearance. Armand had no doubt that he was doing that on purpose; only too well did he remember the nightly lessons in the Roman Coven. Santino had looked the same back then, relaxed but still ready to react to the slightest sound. Quite like a big cat, motionless and at ease with an amazing patience, waiting for hours in silence until the mouse ventured out of its hole and catching it in one swift, secure move.

Carefully making sure that he was wearing his cool, blank expression he had sometimes been so proud of, Armand finally turned to look at Daniel, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Lestat. His fledgling looked tired, hollow-faced, even a hint of shadows beneath his eyes. It gave Armand a not too tiny pang of satisfaction to know that Daniel had not slept well at all. Just let him feel guilty for... for what?

Narrowing his eyes, Armand tried to remember what had made him feel so deceived and used last night, but the memories kept slipping through his fingers. A little frustrated he shook his head, realizing that there was not anything he could blame Daniel for without appearing completely jealous and ridiculous. After all, what had the young vampire done apart from taking a lover? Sure, he had been making love with Armand the same night, but when Armand thought back to that, it seemed to him more like something they had done to make up for fights and hurts between them, not really because they had desired each other. There had been passion, yes, and love. But the more intimate times of their relationship had long been over, what connected them now was that they were maker and fledgling. Sighing, Armand realized that he ought to talk with Daniel again. This was going to be a busy night.

"Pandora will be joining us in a few minutes," Marius said, opening the talk. "I believe we can start without her."

Khayman nodded. "Where exactly did we stop last night?"

"Counting the deaths," came the reply from Santino. "And determining that Maharet is circling the earth right now, hunting down those who are breakers of the rules in her eyes. Have any of you sensed her?" He looked first at Khayman, then at Lestat, the two most powerful among them. Both shook their heads.

"We must find out where she is as fast as possible," Marius stated, exchanging a quick look with Santino. "Else there will be a bloodshed similar to what happened when the Mother rose."

There was a blink of pain in Lestat's eyes, not more than a momentary darkening, but Armand noticed it nevertheless. Akasha had left deeper scars in Lestat's heart than the blond vampire allowed others to see. Armand wondered if even Louis was aware of them.

"But we have already discussed this last night. You know we cannot track her down as easily as any vampire," Khayman said calmly. "Do I have to remind you that she is of the First Brood, if she does not want to be found, she will not be found. It is as simple as that. You cannot expect to just scan for her. Nobody can do that."

Marius frowned. "I know... Is there any other chance we have to find her?"

"Not unless she allows us to discover her hiding place."

"Why are we talking then?" Lestat asked, his voice full of impatience. "If there is nothing we can do, why all this futile discussing?"

"Because it is the only thing we can do," Marius answered.

"Discussion for discussion's sake," Lestat snorted. "What a waste of time!"

"If you have any better ideas, pray share them with us," Marius said sharply.

"We go out looking for her, of course. If she kills other vampires, she leaves a trail. And we just follow her. I can't understand why you haven't thought of that before."

"Searching her mortal-like could take centuries." Santino looked at Lestat, then at Khayman, who was once again cast into the role of the moderator. "Remember that she was in our position for four thousand years. She circled the earth, followed the most improbable traces to find..." His voice trailed off, and he looked about to smack himself for not remembering something before. Armand looked at him, struggling to guess what had come to Santino's mind.

"But of course," he whispered, suddenly seeing it. "Why should we look for Maharet if there is also Mekare?"

 

***

Marius looked first at Armand, then at Santino. "What do you mean?"

"There is nothing we can win if we find Maharet," Armand explained. "None of us is strong enough to subdue her if we should really discover her whereabouts. So there lies no use at all in searching for her. But if I understood the tales of Pandora and Santino right, Mekare appeared to be dissatisfied with Maharet somehow. She might not agree with the crusade Maharet is inflicting on our brothers and sisters."

"And what if you are wrong?" Daniel asked. "You cannot be sure about that."

"Of course not, but do we really have anything to lose?"

Marius shook his head. "There is a risk involved, we must not deny that. None of us know anything of Mekare, apart from Khayman.

"And all I know is six millennia out of date," the ancient vampire added. "But when I think back to those times, I remember her as a woman who would have protected her people at all costs; she might be the same still."

"But who are her people now? Is that Maharet, or we?" Santino wanted to know.

"I assume she is not supporting her sister in this." Pandora came into the parlor, giving everybody a quick smile before settling down in one of the armchairs. "Think of it. If she were on Maharet's side, she would be killing vampires too, and we don't know anything of that." She regarded Khayman calmly. "Surely the stronger ones among us would have sensed such a thing. Remember that we felt the passing of those the Mother killed."

"So what will we do? Go out and look for Mekare?" Lestat demanded to know. Armand gave him a cold look, trying to make him go silent again. Lestat glared back.

"Perhaps it is better if we just call her and leave the decision to her whether she wants to come or not." Santino looked at the others. "We need her to cooperate with us, not force her."

"As if anybody could force her!" Lestat stood, arms folded. "We are wasting time, don't you see? The sooner we catch Maharet, the sooner we can go back to living our normal lives."

"As normal as they can be in your company," Louis muttered; Lestat did not appear to hear it.

"I won't stay here any longer and wait for you to finally reach a decision when I can go looking for her as well. It's already clear what the outcome of this talk will be, so I'm going to skip a few steps."

Armand watched silently as the blond vampire strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Louis was watching the scene helplessly; the expressions on the faces of the others were ranging from angry to sad. Why did Lestat have to leave now, when it was so important that they all fought this together? Ah, but he knew the answer to that, didn't he?

"Shouldn't somebody follow him?" Daniel's voice broke the silence.

"That would not be of any use. Lestat will never listen to us, that much I have learned in the past," Marius said. "Daniel, don't think that I do not love him. But he needs to cool off his temper."

"I can keep an eye on him," Khayman offered. Rather sensible, Armand thought; it was never safe to let Lestat go off entirely on his own. He really wished that the Brat had stayed, but he should have known from the beginning that such an outburst was bound to happen.

"Why does he have to be so reckless," Marius mused, his words more thoughts spoken aloud than a real question. Slowly Armand laid his hand on top of his maker's, only lightly touching it; Marius looked at him, a grateful smile on his face.

"He does not do it on purpose, Master. It is his nature."

"I know, I know... Still I will never give up the hope that he will grow calmer with age."

Sighing softly, Armand rested his head against Marius' shoulder, knowing that this gesture would make him feel the supporting, wise ancient again. With Marius it was always a matter of putting him into the right mood. And giving him the feeling of being in need of his support was always a good way to go. An arm came around his waist, not really holding him tight; still Armand moved a little closer to his maker, allowing himself to be held.

"Don't worry yourself about Lestat, Master. He will come back, and he will be alright. He always comes back unharmed." A little lie, but the thing Marius needed to hear now.

"Thank you for saying this. If only he could have waited those short minutes... But he has always been so impatient."

"Excuse me," Santino interrupted them. "As interesting as discussing Lestat may be, can we please return to the topic at hand?"

Nodding, Marius turned his head to look at them all, then settling his gaze on Khayman once again. It was interesting that everybody appeared to regard Khayman as the final authority in this matter; not that Armand would have protested, but he would have liked to be given a choice.

"Is there anything that speaks against calling Mekare?"

The Egyptian vampire shook his head. "Nothing that I can think of."

"Still there is danger involved," Pandora stated. "Who can know what she will do?"

"I think we have to take that risk. It is not as if we really have a choice." Marius sounded calm, but Armand knew that much of this was a facade. Everybody in the room pretended to be calmer than he really was, some of them more thoroughly than others. Santino seemed completely indifferent, the expression on his face had not changed at all since they were gathered here, safe for a slight frown when Lestat had left. Khayman was the same; only that he did not look as dispassionate. Even Daniel was trying to keep his thoughts from showing on his face, succeeding most of the time. He obviously lacked practice; another thing Armand had failed to teach him.

"So do we agree then to call her?" Khayman asked. They all nodded slowly, even Louis, who had not appeared to take any notice whatsoever of the discussion. Strange that he was so detached lately, perhaps Armand should talk to him, ask him what was wrong? Shaking his head slightly, Armand decided that this would have to wait, talks with Marius and Daniel had priority as soon as the general threat of Maharet was settled.

"Has anybody got a suggestion where to look?" Pandora asked. "It would be easier."

"Areas familiar to her, I would say," Santino replied. "The Andes, the Middle East. Even if she is not there, those are as good starting points as any others."

"Good idea," came the acknowledgement of Marius. "Pandora, you look in Europe, I will take Asia. Armand, scan in South America. Santino, North America. The rest we will do together later."

"What about me?" Daniel asked. "I would like to help too."

"Young one," Khayman said, giving him a warm smile. "The two of us will give the others the peace and quiet that they need, and take the dog out for a walk. If it is alright with you, Louis, of course."

Louis just nodded, showing no intent to leave the room with Khayman and Daniel. Quite grateful that his fledgling was gone, Armand leaned back on the couch, thinking of the best way to approach his task. Pandora opened a window, letting in the warm night air, and settled on the sill, staring down into the garden as she started to scan for Mekare. Looking at Santino, Armand received a brief smile before the Italian vampire closed his eyes, his face going completely blank. Marius was drawing him a little closer, and Armand allowed it, making himself comfortable before he concentrated on the general direction and reached out, calling Mekare's name.  
***

Treason: Chapter 14 - High Expectations  
***

What a folly. What a completely ridiculous idea to waste precious time talking and discussing nonexistent facets of a problem; but exactly that was what the old ones appeared to be fond of. They had lost touch with reality, those ancient vampires who thought that they could treat this problem like any diplomatic crisis. Call Mekare and make her stop Maharet; what an idiocy! The mute twin had lost her reason, her mind was gone, so how should she understand what the others wanted her to do? That she had slain Akasha had been mere instinct, that and an old promise. But now she was nothing but a moving statue, there was no soul.

Lestat stopped for a moment to scan for Maharet once again; he was sure that he could find her, and that it was the best way. If they knew where she was, they could stop her, it was that simple; a straightforward plan, not like those complicated operations Marius and Santino seemed to prefer. They were refusing his plan because it was simple, not brilliant enough for them. As if that mattered! Maharet had to be stopped before she did any more harm.

That David was dead was something Lestat had yet to really absorb. It was impossible to think that his youngest fledgling was gone, that Lestat would never hear that cultivated British voice again, that he would never embrace the beautiful young figure again. Gone. Gone. Gone. He shook his head, trying to get his hair out of his face as well as getting rid of those thoughts. It hurt to think that David had died; a constant fierce pain stabbing his heart at every beat. But Lestat had not yet cried, there had been no time for it. Nobody was mourning for David, it was as if they all did not care. Was Lestat the only one who missed him? No, Louis surely felt the same, he had always liked the well-mannered, studied Briton.

But Louis was not thinking much about anything right now; he appeared to still be in shock, detached from what was going on around him. He had hardly talked to the others, had not said a lot at all since he had nearly died in the fire that destroyed Marius' manor. Lestat was trying to coax him out of that shell, make him talk again and be the gentle, soft-spoken lover he so craved. All that Louis was now was polite. He took care of the guests - or rather, asked Lestat to do so; he was giving them the impression that he was doing everything in his power to make them comfortable. But he was not welcoming them, not exchanging any small talk, not even with Armand and Marius.

Something was wrong here, it was not normal that Louis had changed so rapidly. Wrong. But what? Lestat could recall some other times when Louis had fallen into brooding, but it had been different. Something had been there that was missing now. If only he could remember... Louis was so dispassionate and unresponding, Lestat had felt uncomfortable only sharing a bed with him last night. When he had tried to take his lover into an embrace, Louis had yielded, but had not done anything, not the slightest movement, to move closer. He was allowing himself to be handled, but not more. Did he even care that Lestat had held him? Had he noticed the small kisses on his neck and shoulders? Lestat was not sure, and it frightened him.

Another reason to quickly find Maharet and stop her. Louis' silence and withdrawal was connected to her, so as soon as she was locked up or whatever, things would surely return to normal again. They just had to. Lestat was not going to accept it that Louis had undergone such a thorough change without him noticing or consenting.

Suddenly the thought crossed his mind that Louis might leave him; perhaps he was bored, or thought Lestat's company annoying. No, Louis would never think of anything as annoying; a mild nuisance, that was the expression he would use. Was that what Lestat was to him now, a mild nuisance? No, Louis would not, could not leave him, Lestat was sure of that. He would stay with his maker, if only out of solidarity, because they were creator and fledgling, because they had known each other for so long. Louis would not manage to simply walk out the door, as Gabrielle had always done, without looking back.

Gabrielle. Where was she? Roaming the jungles still, being in the company of wild beasts rather than with humans? Lestat hoped she was happy where she was, and that she would return to him again. The last time she had come to him, he had been lying in a coma in the orphanage's chapel, and she had taken her leave as soon as she had seen him moving. When he had returned from the brief visit he had paid Marius, where he had heard the divine music, Gabrielle had already been gone, without even leaving a message for him. Nobody knew where she was, and nobody dared ask.

It would be nice to see her again, Lestat thought, especially now, to make sure that she was still alive and well. He wanted to be in her company, longed to be held by her, something that had rarely happened even when they had still been mortal. How ridiculous, to think that he, the Vampire Lestat, one of the most powerful creatures on this planet, wanted to be hugged by his mother. Not that Gabrielle would do it if he asked, of course. Still it was nice to think of it, to imagine her slim white arms around him, tightening a little as cool lips brushed his forehead...

Stop dreaming. She is not going to come back only because you wish she would.

He really ought to concentrate on the matters at hand, in that point the ancient ones had been right. If only they were so insightful all the time; but that was an utopic thought and Lestat knew it. They just wanted to appear important and busy, that was why they were making such a fuss over their next steps, as if they had not figured out yet what was going to happen. It was probably only for decency's sake that they discussed everything at length, probably Marius and Santino could not just admit that they were of the same opinion for once.

Again Lestat searched for Maharet, and for a moment he had the feeling that he was being noticed, but it was gone so quickly that he could not be sure. Perhaps he was imagining things, or somebody else had intercepted his call; or it had really been her. But the contact, if it had even been one, had been too short to determine where it had come from. Still, he had the first traces, and if he continued to scan for her, he would eventually discover where she was hiding.

Perhaps he should write a book again, the recent events gave him enough material. He missed the publicity, the fame; during the last years it had become quiet around him. Hardly anybody remembered his music, if anything was recalled, it was the desastrous aftermath of his concert which had prompted increases of security measures all over the country. His books were still being bought, of course, but with Pandora and Armand's stories out too people were regarding them as fiction more than ever before, thinking that it was a canon that was being published here. Somehow Lestat did not like it that the two had written down accounts of their lives, they were participating in the spotlight that was supposed to be his alone. At least they were of his coven, he knew them and, in Armand's case, loved the imp. They were allowed to do it. But he would have paid that mysterious Vittorio a visit, and they would have had a very thorough talk on the subject of plagiarizing Lestat's ideas if Maharet had not been there first.

Yes, he was going to write down this tale, would describe what was happening here. Louis' distance, David's death, it would all find its place in his book.  
***

Pandora shook her head in frustration. "Nothing. Not even the slightest trace." She was pacing the length of the parlor and succeeding to make everybody else nervous. They had been scanning for Mekare for nearly an hour, until even Marius had begun to show the exhaustion those mental activities always brought. Armand and Santino, the younger and weaker of the four, had stopped their search before, both looking rather worn now.

"Perhaps she heard us and did not want to answer," Armand suggested tiredly, leaning back against Marius' shoulder. "We will just have to continue until she does."

Smoothing Armand's hair, Marius nodded in agreement. "I only wish she would come. She must understand the importance of this."

"Not necessarily." Pandora slipped off the windowsill and flowed into the armchair below, where she curled up in a more comfortable position. All she wanted now was a long bath and some cuddling, preferably with Santino, though she would have settled for nearly everybody at the moment, since the Italian vampire looked as if he would be fast asleep as soon as he lay down.

"What do you mean?" Marius asked.

"Mekare only appeared in public, so to speak, once in six thousand years," Pandora explained. "And that was a truly exceptional occasion that simply had to make her stir, considering what the Mother meant for her."

"You believe she is going to ignore us?"

"It is a possibility. I certainly don't hope so, but it is possible."

"That she has not answered yet does not necessarily mean that she will not come," Marius said firmly, and Pandora knew that he was going to cling to this hope for as long as possible. She liked those brief optimistic moments he sometimes had, they were such a nice contrast to his usual boring realism. His matter-of-fact attitude could be endearing, of course, but sometimes Pandora needed somebody with a less firm grip on reality.

She had lost that touch herself, and more than once. It was like a mild version of Khayman's amnesia; Pandora tended to slip into long spans of detachment, when nothing could really reach her, even though she was wide awake inside. Logic did not matter to her then, and it was frustrating to see others consider it as one of the most important things. Pandora was not against reason and sensibility, but she knew that she could sometimes live without it. Not now, though, when she had only just awoken from her last drifting phase. It would take time for it to repeat, maybe a century, maybe more, she did not know. It always depended on her surroundings.

Carefully stretching her limbs, she lazily reached up to close the window before she rolled up into a ball again. Armand was mirroring her position, curled up in the space between Marius and the armrest. He seemed to be asleep, his head pillowed on Marius' chest; Pandora could hear his slow, even breathing. Truly angelically looking, the way he lay there.

"Marius," she said, only continuing when he turned his head to look at her. "What are you going to do with Daniel?"

The Roman closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head. "Why are you all so set on asking that? Santino wanted to know the same before."

"I don't want to see either of you unhappy." Pandora gave him a serious look. "Are you sure that his company is what you want?"

Marius sighed softly. "If only I knew, Pandora, if only I knew." He glanced at Santino uneasily, but relaxed a little nearly immediately. She followed his gaze and found that Santino had joined Armand in sleep. Poor young ones, so easily exhausted still.

"Then make sure that you are aware of your feelings, or you'll only hurt the fledgling and yourself."

"Thank you for the advice," Marius said softly but firmly, "but I can solve this by myself."

"No, you can't. I have been with you for long enough to know that you are a trying being to live with. And I am not sure if Daniel is as patient as I."

"Patient? Pandora, I can think of a lot of words to describe you, but patient is definitely not among them." Marius was smiling a little, looking younger than usual. A good thing, Pandora thought; she was talking about a serious issue here, and as long as he remained playful and did not become stubborn, there was a chance that she could get her message through.

"I managed to bear with you for two centuries, that can surely be called patient and enduring," she returned, soft laughter reflected in her voice. It was good to be talking of less lethal things for once. "So, what will happen with you and that brash youngster?"

"Time will tell, my dear." Armand was stirring in his sleep, and Marius softly stroked his cheek before continuing. "Daniel and I have barely known each other three nights ago, it is impossible to say what can and cannot be. I do not want to rush into this."

"But maybe you will have to rush. Marius, the young one does not have the same concept of time as you do. If you speak of waiting a little, you think years, for him it means a week. He won't wait for you forever, you know?" Pandora sighed inwardly; Marius could be so incredibly naive sometimes that she thought it impossible that it was genuine. Did he really think that Daniel would be willing to wait for long to allow him to make up his mind? Pandora did not know the fledgling at all, but it was more than clear that the young one was waiting for a decision. Daniel could not have the patience it might take for Marius to decide what he wanted, that was simply impossible. He was a fledgling still, and such long spans of indecision and insecurity were not something he was used to.

And of course Marius did not realize that. Love could really be blind, Pandora thought. She was rather sure that Marius held strong feelings for Daniel, there were certain signs for that. The way he looked when the young one's name was mentioned, and that his gaze always lingered on the fledgling just a moment too long. Sure, she could be wrong, but Pandora had never been one to doubt herself. It was most likely that Marius would eventually fall in love with Daniel, and if the young one felt the same they would be a delight to behold.

"Perhaps you are right," Marius said, more to himself than to her. "But I cannot talk with him about this now, it would only confuse him."

"Then wait a little. Though I can't see how you could possibly confuse him any more."

Marius laughed softly. "I cannot remember asking you for your advice, but I am grateful."

"You should better be." Pandora got off her chair, stretching for a moment before walking over to Marius. She bowed her head and lovingly kissed him. "I want to see you happy because you deserve it."

"I can only return this." Marius held her hand and looked up at her. "I should have asked this long before... Are you happy, Pandora?"

She looked at him for a long moment before answering. "I am."

"No regrets about anything?"

"There are always regrets. But I am content with my life, if that is what you mean." She saw that he wanted to ask her something, but that he didn't quite know how to do it. "Spit it out, Marius. What do you want to know?"

He appeared a little piqued by her blunt approach; he had always been one to choose the more subtle ways. "I was just wondering..."

"What?" she asked, becoming a little impatient.

Again he looked into her eyes, still not releasing her hand. "If you are content with Santino."

Pandora was silent for a moment, not sure if she should laugh now or not. This was simply ridiculous. Finally she decided against it, laughter would wake the two sleeping vampires and she did not want to do that, so she just settled for a wide smile that boarded on a grin. "I am, Marius, I really am. Otherwise I would not stay with him."

"You also stayed with Azim, and you were not content in his company. I love you, and I need to know that you are alright." Marius looked so sweet that she couldn't help but kiss him again. Sometimes there were moments when she could forget how old he really was, and what he had seen in his life. He could be just the young man she had adored.

"Azim was... different. I was in pain then, and did not care much about what happened to me." She paused, searching for the right words. "It did not matter what he was doing, and I think I was glad somehow that he was dominating me so I did not have to make my own choices. For lack of a better word, I was asleep then."

"And now?"

"Now I am wide awake and aware of what is going on. With Santino I am out of my free will, he doesn't have me under his spell or anything." She softened her smile a little. "I know that you would have been happier if I had chosen someone else, but he is who I want to be with."

Marius nodded thoughtfully, a blond strand slipping into his face. Raising his hand, he brushed it back and tucked it behind his ear. "I could not be content if I knew that you are unhappy, Pandora. Our time together may be over, but I love you still, and you will always have a place in my heart." He carefully disentangled himself from Armand, cautiously resting the small vampire on the sofa before rising and drawing her into an embrace. "My Pandora."

She leaned into the embrace, her arms around Marius to hold him close. "I love you too, Marius." They stayed like this, just holding each other, content with each others' closeness.

 

***

That they had not been able to detect either Maharet or Mekare was darkening Marius' mood. He had expected to find at least one of them and to put an end to this madness; he disliked it absolutely to be forced to watch while unable to really do anything against it. But the ancient twins had remained hidden from them, and Marius began to believe Pandora's words, that the only hope was that one of them decided to show herself. Not a very promising situation, but it was the only logical explanation. The powers of the ancient ones were impossible to estimate, Marius knew that only too well. His own strength was not really known to him, he had never wanted to find out his limits. Sometimes he had gotten close to discovering where the breaking point lay for him... the fire, the ice. In those times he had believed that he had finally reached his boundaries, only to find that there was still some energy left, barely enough to live but too much to die.

How frustrating to recognize that it was not enough now to perform this task that was so important for all of them, to discover the whereabouts of the twins. Marius had hoped that at least he and Pandora would be able to detect a trace of the red-haired sisters, but it had been a futile wish, a useless attempt that had left them both exhausted and disappointed.

They had left the parlour and instead settled down outside in the court. Pandora had suggested it, she appeared to want to leave the other two to their well earned sleep. He should have thought of that too, he should have been the one to propose they should go; as usual Pandora had been intercepting him, carrying out an idea while it was only just forming in his mind. Now Marius was sitting in the soft grass, leaning against the trunk of the small oak, his legs outstretched and defining the space in which Pandora had curled up, her head resting on his shoulder.

Cuddled together like this, they were not having any second thoughts, or at least, Marius was not having them. With Pandora one could never be too sure about such things, though he was rather certain that she was being more or less faithful to her current partner. She was surely just seeking the comfort of an embrace, Marius thought, it would be unlikely of her to try and seduce him now that he had practically declared his feelings about Daniel a mere five minutes ago. Pandora would not interfere in this, he knew her well enough to be certain of that.

It was nice to hold her this close again, a rather confirming thought to know that at least something had not changed over two millennia. Pandora was still there, and she still was his friend; Marius did not usually tend to become nostalgic, but her presence always reminded him of the loud and crowded streets of their birthplace, the pride to be a citizen of the mighty Roman Empire. How strange to think that they had survived the great realm for so long; Marius had always expected Rome to last forever. How disappointed he had been when the empire had begun to crumble, when one emperor after the other had proved incapable of ruling. Sometimes it had been devastating to hear of the loss of yet another province. Pandora had never been affected that strongly by it, she had not cared as much as he had done.

He rested his cheek against the top of her head, her soft hair brushing his skin. So good to know that she was still around, to have a few moments of peace together with her. Soon she would return to Santino's side again, but now they were having the time they deserved. He could feel her even breathing, could hear the steady heartbeat; only too well did he remember hearing her death approach, her breathing becoming labored, her heart slowing down until it finally stopped. As if it had been only yesterday that her life had been taken in exchange for immortality. She had been ready for it, that much he knew now. About her he would never have had to worry like for most of his fledglings. She would always find a way to survive, her will was strong enough.

Cool fingers were caressing the back of his hand, lazily wandering to his wrist where they lingered before being entwined with his fingers. A satisfied sigh, then Pandora leaned more heavily against him. One of his arms came around her, and he was marveling at how narrow her waist was; she was built in such a frail way, like a young girl with her slender hips and small, firm breasts. The blood had worked its magic on her, erasing all traces of time and letting her seem ageless. He could spend hours just looking at her, just being with her.

Part of him wondered that she was so quiet, did she want to savour those moments of peace too? Maybe she knew that they wouldn't last; they might sit together calmly now and be in the middle of a vicious argument a few minutes later. At least they no longer had to argue over Christians, one of Pandora's favourite topics when they had still been living together in Antioch. Marius could not quite understand why that religion held such fascination for his fledglings; nearly all of them had shown amazing interest in it. To Marius Christianity had been something that could be studied and that otherwise was not better or worse than any other religion he had ever heard of, and it appeared that Pandora had finally reached the same conclusion. Perhaps Armand could manage to do the same, though Marius had his doubts about that.

At some point he would have to talk with Armand, Marius was well aware of that. There were too many unresolved issues between them to simply get on with their life as if nothing had happened. That, and of course Marius should also concentrate on solving the big problem they were all having. Sighing, he sank against the smooth trunk of the oak, felt Pandora stiffen and turn as a response. If only things could be easier, he thought as she was regarding him carefully, amber eyes studying his face intently. Such an enthralling gaze she had.

He allowed her to draw him into a hug; her hand was stroking his hair slowly and tenderly, telling him that things would be alright, that there was no reason to worry. Strange that Pandora could do that, making him feel better with merely being there. But it had always been like that. In Dresden, that one memorable night when they had met, he had still been grieving for Armand, for the child he had inevitably lost. She had reminded him that things always continued somehow. And when he thought of it, she would have slapped him senseless if she had found out that he had not gone to bring Armand home. Pandora would never have understood why Marius had made that sacrifice. And neither had Armand, really. Sometimes Marius wondered if any of the others could comprehend what it had meant to care for the Mother and the Father for so long, to place them above all other things, to lose his beloved ones because of them. Pandora had fallen victim to his feeling of duty not only once but twice, and Marius did not even want to think of what had happened to Armand.

The past was sometimes a heavy burden to bear, he thought, closing his eyes and trying to forget for a moment.  
***

The red-haired twins were standing at the bank of the river and staring down into the grayish-blue water that glittered with sunlight. They had their arms around each other, cheeks touching. One of them was speaking, but he could only see her lips move. He strained to hear the words, but the sound of the water slowly and steadily lapping at the bank was drowning them out. Now the other one talked, tilting her head back a little as if to get a better look at her sister's face. Not possible to tell who was Maharet and who was Mekare; they were younger than when they had been made, not fully grown yet. They released each other, hands moving in rapid gestures, underlining the words that were spoken. Still there was no audible sound, but the expression on their faces, the movement of their lips were clear hints that they were no longer whispering but talking with raised voices.

One of the twins was shaking her head in rapid denial as the other one attempted to convince her of something. They were having a heated argument now, glaring and scowling at each other. A hand was raised, and one sister slapped the other, who looked as if she could not believe that her twin would lash out at her. Slowly she averted her tear-stung eyes, her cheek burning. Her sister glowered at her for another moment, then sighed deeply and drew her close, murmuring words of apology. The hurt one leaned into the embrace, pressing her reddened cheek against the fabric that covered her sister's breasts.

Armand knew he was waking, but he did not want to, he needed to see how this continued. But he inevitably had to open his eyes, the dream fading even as he attempted to hold onto it. Slowly he moved into a sitting position, struggling to understand the meaning of what he had just seen in his mind.

"You saw it too?"

Turning his head in the direction the voice had come from, Armand found Santino looking at him. The older vampire had apparently been asleep too, judging the slightly crumpled clothes and mussed hair.

Nodding, Armand ran a hand through his own tangled curls, for a moment wondering where Marius had gone. Only a faint scent of his maker was still lingering.

"Then it was not a simple dream," Santino stated.

"Certainly not... if we saw the same."

"The twins standing at the river and arguing?"

"Yes, until one of them slapped the other and then embraced her."

"Exactly."

They looked at each other, both not sure what to make of this. Armand was willing to consider it a positive sign signifying that Mekare had taken notice of them and was trying to communicate the way she had used just before she had slain Akasha. Still there was the distinct possibility that it held an entirely different meaning. Perhaps Maharet had sent this dream to confuse them, or maybe they had just picked up a stray thought from any of the twins.

"I suppose we should find the others," Armand suggested. "Maybe somebody other than us has seen it too. And we will have to discuss it."

Santino nodded in agreement and got to his feet, straightening his clothes somewhat. Scanning, Armand found that Pandora was out in the courtyard; he could not detect another presence, but that did not necessarily mean that she was alone, most likely Marius was with her.

He saw Santino wincing slightly, and gave him an inquiring look. "What's wrong?"

"Lestat is not altogether happy that I told him to return here," came the reply.

"Have you called the others as well?"

"Daniel and Khayman, yes. I haven't been able to find Louis yet."

Armand frowned; this was highly unusual. Louis might be able to shield from fledglings, but it should be practically impossible for him to cloak his presence against Santino, unless the Italian vampire was starved or otherwise weakened. Concentrating, Armand searched for Louis as well, scanning first the surrounding streets, then the quarter and finally the entire city. He sought to remember Louis' face, his voice, the way his mind felt when touched.

With a frustrated sigh he shook his head. No trace of Louis. Perhaps Lestat was with him and shielding them both? But why should the Brat do that? Armand smiled a little at himself for wondering about that; Lestat never needed reasons to do something, and if he wanted to be with Louis and not be interrupted, he might very well cloak both their presences. Armand told himself to stop imagining the two of them in a lovers' embrace.

He did not want to think of the other possibility, that something had happened to Louis, that he was unconscious and could not answer the call.

"You cannot find him either," Santino observed calmly, and Armand shook his head in response. "Absolutely no trace?"

"Not one. And he has never been able to completely hide himself from me."

"Of course not, you know him to well for that."

Armand went to the window and looked down at the street, hoping for a moment to see Louis out there, as unlikely as it was. "We ought to tell Lestat."

"You know what the result would be." Santino came to stand at Armand's side, his hands resting on the window sill. "Either Louis is with Lestat, then the Brat would be angry at us for disturbing them. Or Louis is really lost, and in that case we would not be able to calm Lestat. I would rather avoid both possibilities."

"We could probably wait until Khayman and Daniel have arrived here..." Armand said slowly. "And then the ancient ones can look for Louis."

Santino nodded in agreement. "It might be the best way."

"Then why do I have the feeling that it is wrong?" Armand asked softly.

"Because your conscience tells you so." Turning away from the window again, Santino crossed the room, stopping at the door. "Because you know that this is something that cannot wait, no matter how tempting it is to ignore it for a while."

That calm tone. Those quiet, calculated inflections. Five hundred years had passed since Armand had heard Santino talk like this, lecturing and questioning. He struggled not to let it disturb him, at least not more than it already had, but he knew that it was a battle he would eventually lose. Some things could always unsettle Armand, and that particular sound of Santino's voice was one of them, bringing back memories of dusty hallways and cobwebbed niches, of lessons taught in the dim light of candles made of beeswax. Rats scurrying along the corridors, their feet making little scraping noises on the stone floor. The cracking of the logs, the heat of the giant bonfires. The hypnotic rhythm of the kettledrums, the enchanting hymns that had held so little meaning and seemed so important. The dirt, the ragged robes, the absolute despair and emptiness that had filled those years.

"Armand?"

He flinched as if Santino had touched him, he needed to turn around and convince himself that the older vampire was still standing in the doorframe, several steps away from him. Nearly immediately he schooled himself into stillness, hoping that Santino had not noticed, or that he would at least pretend that he hadn't.

"We ought to meet the others and tell them about Louis," Armand said, rather proud that his voice was firm and not wavering. Santino glanced at him for a moment, appeared about to say something else, then seemed to decide to remain quiet. He nodded, then left the room in direction of the garden, Armand following him with a slight distance.


End file.
